


Splinters and Stones

by perryvic, Zaganthi (Caffiends)



Series: Glitter and Glass Universe [2]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Dystopia, House Kolya, Imperial Guard, M/M, Meta humans, Non-Sexual Slavery, Sexual Slavery, Threesomes, Trine - Freeform, cage fighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2013-07-27
Packaged: 2017-12-21 14:07:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 100,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/901161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perryvic/pseuds/perryvic, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caffiends/pseuds/Zaganthi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That was why he was protecting the two freemen contractors. They were important to the program, he'd been told. And they were probably so boring that normal people would cut their wrists if they were stuck in a conversation with them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He wasn't exactly sure if his Imperial reassignment had looked at the black indictments on his record before they sent him here. The StarGate Command was a pretty good posting for any Imperial even if it was a little bit insulting to be on babysitting duty for couple of contracting freeman scientists. That was no big deal. He'd do his time and maybe he could get in on the action a little, build up his profile again and they might put him back in the real Imperial Airforce again.

John had made his way through the base at Cheyenne, reporting in with personnel and had been a little bit perturbed by the pitying looks he got when he presented his chipped dog tags, complete with his not so spotless record and reassignment details.

It was a cake-walk assignment for someone who had frontline action with Imperial Wars, but after what he'd done, maybe it was the kind of trust-building exercise they wanted to saddle him with until they felt he'd served enough boring penance to get back to doing what he'd always done well.

Inside Cheyenne, they processed him in through with the efficiency he was used to inside the Guard. He was given new dog tags with new orders imbedded in a micro-chip, and a new security card. He stood around for a good thirty minutes after he was finger and palm-printed while they verified his prints against the ones they had on record for Sheppard, John A. He'd picked up a nasty scar on his palm since he'd last been printed, and one of the security techs kicked up a little fuss about it until John threatened to shove the medical records that *proved* he'd been cut there right up said tech's ass.

He tried to smile as he said it, his voice just raising a little glancing just a little at the technicians cuffs, that showed him to be a buy-in from some Imperial contracted house. 

He was Imperial, born and bred. Mother and father both Imperial Guards, and by default with no House to pay for his education he was one of the Forces brats, cutting his teeth on guns instead of cuffs as his dad used to say. He had no House to act as a safety net, his life was owed to the Imperial Forces until he retired out on an Imperial Pension, a Freeman. Which would've been a lot sooner if it hadn't been for a decision he couldn't bring himself to regret when he went after some of his squadron. All very laudable, very... human. But orders were more important than blood and friendship to the higher ranks, and so here he was.

Apparently somewhere in this building was a Dr Rodney McKay and a Dr Carson Beckett, who both ranked enough to get personal attention by an Imperial guard.

it wasn't something he could feel bad about or really kick himself over. It wasn't like he could see himself really sitting back and loving the retired life if he'd left his friends to die in a mountain wasteland. The guilt would have killed him, even if he hadn't been the type of person to not actually think first and just do, just save.

That was probably why he was protecting the two freemen contractors. They were important to the program, he'd been told. And they were probably so boring that normal people would cut their wrists if they were stuck in a conversation with them, and that was probably also why he was being given pitying looks.

"Fine, fine. Those are your prints. Go through there and the guardsman you'll find will get you into a suitable uniform."

"Thank you," he said moving into the bustle of the SGC. Seemed like a busy place, lots of high rank Imperials, fair amount of glitter on gem cuffs for bond slaves, and a lot of freemen insignia as well, all working side by side. Probably nowhere else would there be such a mix as one of these special project enclaves. Huh, that was a Meta of some description and a handler. Interesting, he'd only met Imperial Meta's and obviously ones on the other sign of the fighting.

He'd once been in a fire fight of fighters and meta's. Saw a buddy of his take a swan dive when some floating guy ripped the wing off of his F19, and then the Meta scoop him up as a War-Slave. Didn't have enough rank to be bought back, or part of an exchange so he was probably still over there somewhere, though his records had come up on the networks as officially processed as captured. Whenever the war declared, he would be in the accounting and then would be shipped back. Unless he managed to escape.

That had been a year ago, and he just put himself on smile and nod as they gave him a uniform, gave him a radio mike, issued him with weapons, did another security sweep and finally told him to go join the other Imperials and wait for his assigned targets to come out of whatever meeting was going on.

All he had to go on were the pictures that were taken of each man for their security cards, and it didn't hurt to glance at their pictures again to refresh himself while he waited. 'Carson Beckett' had been smiling at the camera, bright teeth and a relaxed smile.

'Rodney McKay' looked dour in his photograph, dour and distracted, with his eyes canted towards something that was off camera.

If you could go by pictures, he had a feeling he knew who he was going to like and not like. But maybe Rodney had been having a bad day that day. Who knew? 

He let himself in to where the other Imperials were hanging out, and they did the usual. What his buddy Gary used to call 'butt-sniffing' -- checking the insignia's, comparing rank, combat stars, mission bars and commendation pins, working out who was above and who was below with an ease that was automatic. Well, he ranked a fair few.

There was a guy on the same as him so that was a good place to start. "Hey...John Sheppard, new in town..." he said pouring charisma into his smile as he sat down next to a very young looking imperial and a Major. "Thought I might see if anyone could give me the low-down." 

The guy was a little shorter than John, stockier. He was definitely not the kind of guy who’d end up piloting a plane – seemed more ground forces imperial to John. But he smiled, and turned towards Sheppard. “I’m Major Lorne. What’s your assignment, Sheppard? Other than within the SGC.” 

"Personal Bodyguard for two contracted freeman specialists," John said easily. "A... Dr Rodney McKay and Dr Carson Beckett. Know them?"

Lorne's mouth curled up, and he nudged John's elbow. "Look, I was going to wait to have a word with Lieutenant Carter, but if your targets are in that room? We'd both be better off getting a coffee in the canteen."

"Why do I get the impression you are trying to break bad news to me gently huh?" John replied, recognising that sort of look . "Okay, coffee it is. And the bad news."

"Got any idea how long you're playing bodyguard?" Lorne asked, shrugging his shoulders gently as he turned down the opposite hallway. Yeah, he was harboring bad news and it was probably the news that John's life was going to become a living hell soon.

"Contract not defined. As long as they feel like I guess," John replied as he followed taking note of the lay out automatically. "In the hands of the Imperials administration I guess."

He was used to that, too. Everything in his life had been in the hands of Imperial administration for as long as he could remember. Schooling as a kid, healthcare, everything. "Probably until you're promoted, then. Have you met McKay?"

"Nope. Never even heard of him. Though, looking at his picture, he doesn't look like the life and soul of the party," John replied. "But hey, body guarding...can't be as tough as front lines right?"

"Tougher. I had to fight the mouthy little bastard's fights *every* day and even on drill fights that's tough. Sure there's a kidnapping or assassination risk with someone like him, but *I* think that if someone kidnapped him they'd be paying us to take him back." Lorne tossed Sheppard a grin. "I worked the detail for 3 years. Just got a promotion, and he's been kept on-base until some poor bastard got the assignment."

"Enter the poor bastard," John replied with a sinking heart. "Fights every day huh?"

Okay, he had a good rating hand to hand and drill fights didn't usually get too rough. Most of the Guard-born Imperials did training in hand to hand but he'd gone Air force, pilot as his specialism and there he was up there with just a handful in his league. But in hand to hand? Probably a fair few would could wipe the floor with him especially if they had a Fighter background.

He was going to have to work on it. "Most every day. Sometimes he stays in and watches bad movies at night, and you're *more* than welcome to join him." Lorne chuckled a little. "Man, I was getting worried that I'd be knocked back down because we had an officer turn down the post."

Turn down the post. Oh hell. He'd looked sour and bored in the picture, but someone turned it *down*?

"But you get penalties for turning down a post..." John said frowning. "I can't afford penalties..." He had enough from Afghanistan. Anymore and he might as well find a hole and pour himself into it and drag the dirt over his head. "How bad is this guy?"

Fights here were probably little more than glorified sparring sessions. That was fair enough. Probably to a first yield or a three count press. Standard rules. He guessed it would be a way of staying in trim. And he was pretty good at talking himself into seeing the best side of a situation.

"He's an asshole. A smarmy little asshole who thinks he's God's gift to the sciences, and women." Lorne's mouth twisted upwards as he pushed open the doors to the canteen. "He's a drama queen, too."

"Great." He wanted to think maybe they were exaggerating, but had a feeling this Major Lorne was a straight up guy. "What about the other one? Dr Beckett?"

"I didn't have him, but I've met him around the base. He's a pretty nice guy. Little nervous, you know. He's the guy who *discovered* the ATA Gene. Real unassuming guy." Lorne picked up a paper cup for coffee, and then another, stacking them inside of each other. "Coffee's decent here."

"Oh right. ATA gene." John nodded and then smiled. "I have no idea what that is. Got my butt handed to me in a sling and stateside right from assignment. I'm not really sure what the big things are here."

"You're kidding?" Lorne lifted an eyebrow at John, and gestured at the cups for him, a hint that he should get going. Then Lorne leaned over and depressed the spout that was stuck on the side of the coffee... tank for lack of a better word. "Stargates? Ancient cities? Area 51? None of this rings a bell?"

"Well, rumours, yeah. I mean, we all heard about the stargate. Ancients... too much detail. If it didn't have wings to fly with I wasn't that worried. There's SG1 right? And other SG teams that go through the gate. That I got. Not sure what's going on *right* now.”

"Right now..." Lorne leaned over and grabbed a pack of sweet and low. It was kind of funny to watch, a bulked out, strong guy who looked like he slept in his uniform, picking up a little packet in his fingers to dump into his coffee. "All gate activity has been suspended. Teal'c -- that's one of the SG1 guys -- is trapped in the stargate as some kinda energy signature. Your McKay is trying to fix it."

"*My* Mckay?" John quirked an eyebrow. "Wasn't he yours until recently? Hasn't he got anything that you'll miss?"

Lorne tilted his eyes up to the ceiling, and then started to shake his head. "His whining? Nope. His fear of citrus? Nope. The bad hair? Nope. Definitely not going to miss movie night. Definitely not going to miss guarding him when he gets up the spine to go to a bar to try to pick people up. And I'm *not* going to miss having to fight the representative of every contractor or high ranking person who pisses him off. Just be happy that everyone in the SGC is willing to forgive McKay for breathing, and they don't press things."

If they were, the fights would be a lot nastier, a lot less token. "I guess he must be good at something, if they are willing to forgive things. Right?" There had to be some redeeming feature about him. Something somewhere. Beckett sounded fine, but god help him...

"He's brilliant. When he tells you that you're an idiot, he's probably right. Bought himself out when he was twenty two, and he's been contracted to the SGC arm of the Imperial since. Pretty good for a kid from up in a mining town, I guess." Lorne pulled a chair out, and sat down at one of the big tables. "The Asgard can actually stand him, but I guess that's because the creepy little greys are pricks, too."

He was really starting to wish those briefings had seemed a little more relevant at the time. "Congratulations Major Lorne, you've managed to depress the hell out of me," he said in a wry tone. "McKay doesn't go off world I take it."

Lorne lifted his coffee cup in what John figured was either a toast or a salute. "Thank god, no. He's too much of an asset, and he doesn't have the gene."

"I guess not many people do," John replied sipping at his coffee. Lorne was right, it was good. "I thought they'd slipped up on the punishment detail for me, but I guess they really do get pissed off and make you pay if you disobey a direct order huh?"

He might as well get the story out there. It would find a way without him.

Lorne grinned at him, and set the cup down with a chuckle. "I punched my commander. Right in the mouth."

He raised his eyebrows at that. "Okay. I disobey a series of direct orders to go after some downed members of the squadron. They were already dead. I screwed up a mission big time."

"I punched my commander in the mouth in the *field*. South America. What used to be Peru, I think. It was great. Look, if you want to play 'who fucked up worst' we've got a full bird Colonel you could play that game with. They don't exactly sent their sparklingest people through a wormhole that could collapse at any moment and kill you."

"I know what the rumour mill can be like. Thought it would be better just to get it out there," John replied. Maybe in the scheme of things a disobeying order wasn't as serious as punching a commanding officer.

It was sort of common sense disobeying, anyway. It was the kind of disobeying that other officers lower on the totem pole would appreciate, because everyone wanted to think that their friends would save their lives. "Nah, it's a good idea. but trust me, McKay is your biggest concern. As long as he's on base and working? Leave him alone. Otherwise he'll have you getting coffee for him. Just know where he is roughly."

"So basically you survived the experience by not exactly being anywhere near him?" John summarised. Sounded like a plan to him.

"No, no," Lorne laughed, picking up his coffee cup again. "*He* survived because I spent as much time away from him as I could. But they put me up in an apartment next door to his. I don't know what you're going to do with two of them to watch out for."

“I'm guessing one on each side. Or something," John said and then looked around. There were more people moving into the canteen area. "Looks like some meeting has broken up somewhere."

"Look for your targets, then, and good luck, Sheppard. I hope I see you around again." Lorne stood up, and he looked like he was going to take his coffee with him. It was probably, no, definitely hot enough to be used as a weapon.

John decided to follow suit, grateful for being warned but hopeful that a bit of charm might smooth over some of those rough edges. He relied on that a fair bit as well. He headed out, scanning the corridor for signs of either of his targets. A polite introduction and a few smiles and maybe he could smooth out some of the guy's prickly edges

For a moment, John just let himself stand in the hallway, enjoying the mingling of ranks and levels. There were Imperials of every branch and grade, contracted bond slaves, and of course, the freemen. He kept his eyes out for the freemen, looking for their faces and then their marks.

He'd half been expecting to hear McKay before he saw him, but he rounded a corner with a messenger bag slung over one shoulder. He didn't look particularly professional, with a plaid shirt over a t-shirt and trousers, hair a little on the long side.

"Dr McKay?" he called out and moved to intercept him. "Dr Mckay? Hey, wait up...."

"Hmn? Am I supposed to know you?" He stopped a little short, fingers knotted around the strap of his bag. He had a smooth face, and a surprisingly guileless expression on his wide mouth. 

Not so bad. He was at least easy on the eyes.

"No. Major John Sheppard, your assigned Imperial. Yours and Dr Carson Beckett's. I've just picked up the duty. It's good to meet you, sir," John said, focusing on the fact that Dr Rodney Mckay had really nice eyes. There. One good thing about the guy and he was going to hold on to that.

"Oh, well, I've been waiting for them to replace Lorne. I've been stuck here for the past week, and I'm starting to miss sunlight." Rodney shifted his balance, and reached with his free hand for John's coffee.

John found himself rather bizarrely just handing it over, and then had the nagging suspicion that he might well just've conceded the whole war to come, with that one action. The stupid thing was, he had no idea why he did it.

"Okay. Well, we'll have to coordinate any trips with Dr Beckett," John said. "Either ensuring he is protected by base security when we go out or, he accompanies us."

"So you're guarding both of us?" Rodney frowned, and looked off into a spot in the distance as he sipped at the coffee he'd just stolen. "Huh. I don't think Carson would mind seeing some sunlight or moonlight eventually."

"You know each other then?" He hoped so. It would make life a lot easier if they did and could be reasonable. "From the information I received I will most likely be in a neighbouring apartment. To you both."

"Oh, great. Do you happen to know where that might be, since they pulled me up out of Area 51, and have been housing me in what I suspect is actually a storage closet?" Rodney started to walk, and John wasn't sure where he was headed.

He just walked alongside him, hoping this would all make sense somewhere along the line. "Not yet. But I can assume that I'll be in whatever is next door to your storage closet," he said with a faint smirk. Too much of a sense of humour could get him in trouble, but from the looks of it, he didn't have much to lose. And so far, McKay? Not so bad.

"This is what I consider a temporary assignment. Carson's been here a while longer, so I assume this means either we're both being moved somewhere, or..." McKay shrugged his shoulders, and he glanced over his shoulder at John. "Actually, I'm not sure. I've never had to share a guard before."

"Well I've never had to guard two people before so I guess that works out," John replied trying not to sound too dry. He also wondered where the hell they were going.

"You have your job cut out for you, then." Rodney stopped for a moment, tipping the cup of coffee back and back, draining it. "Okay, right. I'll be in the labs trying to keep them from blowing us all up."

"I'll go check on Dr Beckett, and check in on you regularly," John said as procedure dictated. "And I'll do my best to make sure no one blows you up, while you are stopping us from being blown up." So far so good. Didn't seem that unmanageable after all that. Maybe Lorne had been giving him a wind up after all.

"Great. It's highly unlikely, I mean, if I end up dead around here, we all will." Rodney handed him back the cup, and then patted John's shoulder before he started back down the hallway. "Say hi to Carson for me."

John gave a lazy salute in Rodney's general direction and nodded amused rather than offended by the patting. Bit of charm, a bit of careful handling and he wasn’t sure what he had been worried about.

The whole thing was going to be a piece of cake.

* * *

Right down to the wire.

No-one listened to him until it was right down the wire, and he'd never before had the pleasure of having someone out and out ignore his theories and his knowledge the way Sam Carter was.

The *nerve* of the woman! First, she'd tried to get him out of the lab but they both knew that no-one slept when something like that was going on and he really didn't want to see if his new guard was practically sleeping on top of him or not. They didn't have a DHD, and the energy that held Teal'c's energy signature was slowly leaking away, and *no*one was listening to him!

Rodney checked over his laptop simulation again, hunkered down in the corner of the lab.

He was surprised when someone approached him and it turned out to be that new Imperial. "Dr McKay, I think it's time to call it a night?" he said sounding eminently reasonable.

"Dead line's up in twelve hours," Rodney informed him, glancing up towards the doorway the man was looming in, and then back towards his laptop. No, even if they had a DHD, it ended up exploding.

"And sleeping a couple of them might give you an inspiration. Or you can plug-in when you are back in your room, but at the moment Dr Beckett probably needs some sleep as well," John said glancing over at the laptop. "And I can't take him back without leaving you here."

"Take him back where? His rooms? It's all on base," Rodney shrugged, starting to set up another simulation. If they lowered the power flow somehow... "Which you might have noticed is under a mountain."

"Yes, but I am meant to be guarding you both and if I am up in the apartment guarding him, then that makes it a bit tricky if something happens down here," the Imperial said patiently. "Couldn't you run simulations back there?"

"It's not an apartment, it's a shoebox. Have you *seen* it?" Rodney half-demanded, but he glanced up at Sheppard again, just for a moment. "No, look, I need to get this done. I can sleep in 10 hours."

For a moment it looked like the Imperial was going to argue. "What are you doing?" he asked instead.

"They're trying to get a DHD from the Russians. I'm testing the different scenarios, and all of them end up with the data re-set." And Teal'c dead. Deader than Rodney already thought he was. If they'd had a DHD in the first place, Teal'c would have come out the other side.

"Right." Oh, of course he was saying 'right' as if he had even a clue what he was talking about. The Imperial... Major Sheppard leaned in disturbingly close over his shoulder looking at his simulation. "Like that one will", he said before straightening up. "I think you're right, it won't work without a DHD. In my experience, you can't do a back door work around without something to have a back door in." He shrugged. "Looks like we'll be up a while then. Want a coffee? I'm heading down that way."

"I could use a coffee," Rodney murmured. "Just watch after Carson. There's more Imperials here right now than you can shake a stick at, and I have another meeting in an hour."

"Okay, Dr McKay." The way the man drawled his words made it difficult to work out if he was being mocked or not, especially as this Major John Sheppard seemed to have a permanent half smirk attached to his face. He watched him head out a moment, even as the simulations failed again, which seriously had to be a guess on the hired muscle's part.

There was no way he understood what Rodney was doing, or what *any* of them were doing. He wasn't an Imperial like Sam Carter. More like O'Neill, who just smiled and nodded and listened to Sam even when she was lying about how safe something was or wasn't.

As long as he had coffee when he came back, Rodney didn't care much one way or another whether there were brains in that head.

He wasn't too bad to look at. Lorne had been okay to look at whenever he had managed to actually *see* him. The guy did his body-guarding from afar which would be no use to anyone if anyone actually did make an attempt on his life or safety. Even when they went out, Lorne would be so tucked away as to be practically invisible.

In fact he'd probably had more conversation with this new guy than he had with Lorne in the past three years. Well, very nearly.

Probably. Rodney shifted, leaning to peer at the now empty doorway, and then cracked his neck and settled back over top of the laptop. Ten more hours. The SGC would mourn their large, space alien friend, and life could go on.

He didn't like to be the one setting deadlines, because he might be good, but there were certain absolutes, and that involves the laws of physics. Okay, there was a remote possibility that pattern storage had safe guards for such an eventuality which was unlikely because the Gate was designed to have a DHD and the safeguards would be centred in that. Which mean the data had been degrading, fuzzing out about the edges and the thought of...well, getting a 63% of a Jaffa back was not appealing. But they couldn't see that and that didn't mean he should stop working because he wanted to *show* Samantha Carter that he did know what he was talking about.

Rodney just wasn't an Imperial like she was. He was a free contractor, and while he was free-er than she was, he hadn't been born that way. He'd had to work hard, and that should have been proof that he knew what he was talking about, that he knew his sciences and his bombs and his structural facts, and his Naqadah.

He just hoped they didn't subscribe to the shoot the messenger theory of gate science.

Oh and here came his new shadow, complete with a cup of coffee in each hand. "Here we go," he said passing it over and then rather inexplicably sat down near him.

"Weren't you just muttering about needing to guard Carson?" Rodney asked, reaching down for the cup of coffee that looked like it might be sweeter.

"Had a quick word. He decided he could sleep down at the Infirmary tonight. Swap a shift or something. I told him you'd buy him a drink," John replied. "Which means there's not a whole lot of people awake at the moment."

"Just General Hammond, Sam Carter and all of them." But he was left alone in the lab for the moment, which implied that either Sam was sleeping -- unlikely -- or plotting something. Or trying to get herself blown up.

"Not Colonel O'Neill though. He's off-base so I've been told. Shame really, I would've liked to talk to the guy. He's a bit of a legend," John replied making himself comfortable there with his coffee.

Imperial thugs flocked together, Rodney decided, taking another sip before he absently set the cup off to the side. "Mm. I didn't actually find him all that impressive."

"No?" John queried and there was hint of something behind his eyes even as the smile stayed there. "Saving the world doesn't impress some people I guess."

"It's what he does. Exploring worlds, battling the Goa'uld, no, no, he's *good* at what he does. Sam Carter is *good* at what she does. but trust me, there are more impressive things if you're talking in terms of puppy-dogging after someone." Rodney tapped on his mouse, frowning at the data. No, no, there was just no way to do it.

John snorted a little. "Somehow, McKay, I can't imagine you puppy-dogging after anyone," he said in that irritating laid back voice. The man obviously had no sense of urgency.

"I sense a poor attempt at a joke." Rodney closed his eyes for a minute. Think, think, he needed to think. He was right, of course, but if he hadn't looked at it forwards and backwards and sideways before the meeting, then Sam would suggest something that he might not be able to stamp down before she blew them and the gateroom to hell.

"Our trainer in Personal Classes had a good tip for problems. She said sometimes with an insoluble problem, you could manage the impossible by trying to 'remember' what the solution was instead of creating it. Something to do with memory modes accessing subconscious data. It works though. Might work for uh...math and wormhole physics," John said into the silence.

"Well, I'm sure if we let professional sexpots deal with stargate physics, the world would be a better place. They'd all have blown up and we wouldn't have to worry about them!" Rodney snatched for his coffee again, and shook his head. "Can't be done. We need a DHD."

"What if you're looking at the wrong problem?" John suggested. "Maybe there is a different way to preserve the pattern until you can get a DHD? Some other form of digitizing? Hell, I don't know...maybe taking a back up?" 

"Oh! Oh! Why didn't I think of that? Why didn't *I* think of -- oh, because I did already." Rodney could feel his mouth pulling down, while he twisted to look at his guard. "What do you think this system is, a laptop computer? The information is etched in crystals!"

John shrugged. "Hey, I'm not the genius guy here, that's your job," he said. "I'll go if you want. Just thought it was sometime easier when ideas are being tossed around. Even...obvious ideas."

"Do you know how long I've been working on this?" Of course he didn't and the brief beat of silence gave him that answer. "Thirty six hours. I'm the foremost expert in gate science, and Carter has the most hands on experience, and together... Bupkiss. Nothing. One dead Jaffa. Or, if we're lucky, we'll get the *better* 62% of him back. If only 62% of you could come through a stargate, Sheppard, what 62% would you prefer?

"The 62% of me that can fly," John replied in a light tone. “So are you mad because you can't save him or mad because you can't solve this?" It was asked in a very mild tone.

"Both." Probably the fact that he couldn't solve it slightly more than that he couldn't save him. Teal'c was a well-known badass, and the SG-1 team were national treasures as far as most of the SGC were concerned.

There was a pause and John nodded slightly as if he had given him important information with that answer. "Better leave you to the thinking then. Just a word of advice - if you're dealing with Imperials and there's a team member missing? No one will want to hear about risk factors. They'll take the longest shot there is in the end."

Rodney snorted, but he took another sip of the coffee. "Then I hope you like being blown to smithereens. I'll, yeah. I'll see you around. After the meeting and the whole kaplow thing."

"I'll be checking in," John said getting up in a fluid movement as if the prospect of getting blown up didn't bother him much. "Down time when this is over right?"

"Days of it. Your predecessor thought I was manic-depressive." He was just tuned into his work. Rodney flashed John a smile, and hoped he left and stopped--

Shit, his pager.

Which meant he had to go, had to go fast, either an idea or some new development had hit and they'd *need* him. How could they not?

John stood to one side as he blazed out of the lab in a flurry. He just hoped it was the break they were all looking for.

* * *

John was secretly pleased that he appeared to be charming the apparently difficult Dr McKay. His making friends tactic seemed to be paying off and Dr Beckett was turning out to be a genuinely nice and pleasant person. They were already to calling each other by their first names, and Dr Beckett... Carson had been effusively grateful for the coffee he had bothered to take down to the infirmary when he headed back out there. 

He was also turning out to be a mine of information on base politics. 

"....and the next thing we know, General Hammond is *very* unhappy about the fact there was some sort of alien entity trying to take over Colonel O'Neill, especially with it sticking a spear thing through his shoulder into the wall. We nearly killed him trying to save him.....but it all worked out in the end." 

"It all worked out in the end," John echoed, and okay, maybe he stared at Carson a little, because he was so calm. So calm about it while they dealt with space aliens and amazing things every day. "How does this stuff go on every day without you all going crazy?" 

"Aye well, I think the answer is that most of us have a little bit of crazy tucked away somewhere. We have our pet projects and we stick to them. Mine is the ATA gene." Carson said. "I isolated a genetic component that allows someone to activate ancient technology. Only, we had only had a few items of ancient technology to work with. So far it's only myself and Colonel O'Neill who has the gene strongly - there was this whole thing with an Ancient database... well it was complicated, but I'm doing research on it, because if they ever find an ancient weapon system only someone with the gene could operate it, and they might need to know who that is immediately." Carson explained as he sat back on one of the Infirmary chairs. "The rest of the time I do doctoring, along with the others.”

And he was friendly. John could only imagine what doctoring was like in a base where people came in from other planets on a regular basis. Carson probably didn't see a lot of the usual Imperials with broken bones and slaves with who knew what done to them. Maybe he saw people who had huge tentacle-waving parasites.

"Sounds like you lead a pretty interesting life here. Did you have a guard before?"

"Me? No. Which makes we wonder if they have somewhere they think I should be going," Carson replied with apparent good humor. "How about you John? You're wearing an imperial pilot insignia, not ground forces. Done much body guarding?"

"Not a day in my life," he admitted honestly. Smart, *and* he effortlessly took note of insignia. He probably had enough patients who ranked high to do that so naturally. "This is a new type of assignment for me."

"Well that's a wee bit worrying considering..." Carson replied sounding uncertain. "Rodney's assigned Imperials tend to get a little bit of a workout."

"Major Lorne warned me about that," John smiled, and he reached towards reassuring with his voice. "I'm not green to hand to hand combat. I was over-seas until recently." And sometimes even airmen needed to know how to fight hand to hand, or hand to gun which had always been his strong point.

He got good combat ratings, but usually in life or death situations not formal Challenge fights. Which he shouldn't be fighting because he wasn't a Fighter. But McKay and Carson were both Freemen, with no contracted house affiliation, only an Imperial affiliation, which meant the Imperials had to fulfil the House duties by providing fighters from their own. So, bodyguards in case any cried insult on either of his charges

"Oh, really? Well I'm sure you're capable. Truth be told, it's nearly built into the training sessions. There's not been that many that warranted a weapon fight, and unbladed at that. Rodney is valuable to them so it's only when they must that they call insult on him," Carson said seriously.

That sounded... just a little dire, but John knew how other Imperials would approach it. "I talked to him today and he seemed pretty all right. What exactly does he *do* to bring it on himself?" And his guard.

Carson raised his eyebrows. "Rodney? He's... well, you must have caught him at a slightly a-typical day is all I can say is that it is usually obvious. He is... a genius and in general he finds other people intolerably stupid. And does not hesitate to tell them that."

"But that's it?" Calling people stupid was it? If that brought on a challenge, then the Imperials in the SGC needed to grow thicker skins.

"Well..." Carson seemed to shrug. "It's more the way he does it. And Imperials tend to resent being treated like House Slaves. And the fact he is just as likely to say it to the top ranks as lower downs. I can't really explain it, I think it's something you need to experience Major... John."

"I'm sure I will. Maybe he was just--" John paused and shrugged his shoulder, smiling into his coffee cup. "Tired? So, I'm curious. How long have you known him?"

"Rodney? Well..." Carson had to think "About a year, on and off. I was brought in as a geneticist when there was that thing to do with Colonel O'Neill and the data base and Rodney came in after that when they started getting more of the naqah... naqadah. I always forget how to say that. He pretty much designed the naqadah generators, which is incredibly high yields of clean energy. It's really quite remarkable actually," Carson said still smiling at him.

Carson, it seemed, had a good word to say about anyone he met.

He had a feeling that the likelihood of his having to fight someone because Carson instigated something was pretty comfortably low. Carson had a great voice, and an easy expression and he just seemed relaxed. "Sounds it. I hope you don't mind if I try to learn a little of what's going on here while I'm working."

"Oh of course not. I'm grateful if anyone shows an interest," Carson said. "I'm hoping to develop something in time that will allow people without the gene naturally to use the technology. But to do that I have to find enough naturals, and they need to be registered. It's a bit of a thorny issue actually, because there are some sections, like the NID, who think that the gene is like a Meta. But considering Colonel O'Neill is one of two, they are having a distinctly difficult time making the idea of him take a collar. And I'm none too keen myself to be quite frank."

"So, do you just test everyone in the program, or are you looking to expand it to the civilian population, or..." John trailed off when the infirmary door slammed open.

And in stormed Rodney. "I can't *believe* how much this sucks!"

John looked around a bit startled even as Carson said. "What is it Rodney?" He clearly heard the unspoken 'this time' tacked on the end.

Rodney ran a hand back through his hair, twisting to look back towards the door. "Siberia! Give the big fucking *insanely stupid* Imperials bad news, and instead of acting gracefully and accepting that nothing is going to work, they consult a Goa'uld . A *Goa'uld*! And they have Russia's DHD, *which* they’re going to blow up in the process, and we're going to *Siberia*! *Siberia*! Do you have any idea what the food is like in *Siberia*?!"

“Siberia?" John found himself blinking a moment. Oh, he had really, really pissed his commander off. No doubt about it. “All of us?"

"Why would they be sending any of us to Siberia?" Carson said sounding a little alarmed.

"They decided to promise them naqadah generator technology and testing of their officers for the gene in exchange for the DHD that they are *going to blow up*. I can't believe they'd rather listen to a *Goa'uld* because he's saying things that they want to hear. He's a space alien used car salesman and they're *listening* to him!" Rodney's mouth was pulled down into a sharp frown, and he was gesturing expansively, voice creeping towards a shout and a whine at the same time.

John couldn't help but think of what he said to Rodney about taking what chance they could. "Dr McKay, it sounds like we don't get a choice..." he said.

"Bloody Siberia...." Carson moaned to himself.

"Surprise! We don't get a choice," Rodney muttered, and he stormed further into the room, pacing. "Idiots. I hope it takes the gate with it."

"Rodney, they must think they have a chance of getting Teal'c back," Carson said. "A man's life is at stake. A wee bit of discomfort is worth that surely?"

John nodded agreeing tacitly. "When it comes down to it Dr McKay, they’re our orders and there is not a lot we can do about it."

Except hoard like crazy in preparation. Every Imperial knew to do that before going on assignment abroad. First thing, he'd hit the nearest town and buy up as much chocolate and mall luxury items as he could manage to stow away. Amazing what a difference that could make on a new base.

It probably wouldn't be amiss to mention that to Carson, who was looking unhappy and shell-shocked. "*Siberia*, Carson. That's not a 'wee bit of discomfort' -- we're talking a whole different way of life, in a hellish backwater of an empire! Okay, fine, they disagree -- I'm used to that, and eventually I'm proven as right and they grumble a little less, but this is *petty*!"

"Or perhaps they need the gene screening, and they need your naqadah generators. It won't take you forever to build them, or me to do the screening. This is not forever," Carson said. "Quicker we settle in, the quicker we'll get back right John."

"Sounds like it..." John said, still thinking about it. Russian Empire, still a good few decades back in common attitudes to things that had moved on in the Western Empires. Hmm. Well, he'd managed in Asia and that was a touchy minefield of honor and infinitely subtle distinctions. And Afghanistan where women were not allowed out without full chain sets, and you never saw a woman buy Free and the men would see a disparity in ideology as a reason to commit an honor duel to the death. Crazy country, as far as he was concerned.

He needed to do a little research and make sure he was up on their rules. "Great. You two just convince yourselves you're happy with this petty bullshitty trick, and *yes* I know you can hear me General Hammond." Rodney twisted and oh, god, he knew where the security cameras were, and he flipped them off.

John tried to stifle a groan. It was vaguely possible that General Hammond might let them get away with that, considering. "Dr McKay, there is a difference between being *happy* about something and making the best of something that is not going to change," he said trying to placate him. "If orders have been given then...there's not anything we can do about it. Except get a drink or something."

Rodney gave one last angry gesture towards the security camera, and twisted to glare at John. "Well, Carson? Care to get drunk before we have to go to the land without toothpaste? Our plane leaves *tonight*, which is thankfully a full 14 hours off."

Carson sighed. "Aye well, a couple of hours won't make a lot of difference. We'll still have time to pack."

No time to sleep though, John considered, not if he wanted those bargaining chips. "Okay then, let's get out of here for a couple of hours. Where's the best place to go?"

"There's a place just off base that I don't think ever closes. It's crappy, but unless you have some booze tucked away in your quarters..." Rodney let that suggestion hang. Maybe he *could* convince them to stay on base, together, while he went out supply hunting.

"Not since the last time you came over and stole my last bottle of whiskey Rodney," Carson said. "John, do you have anything?"

"I don't even have quarters,” John said a little reluctantly. At least he knew why he hadn't been assigned anything if the word was out they were just staying overnight. He hadn't been here long enough to know who to go to, to scrounge for anything. "Looks like we're heading out."

"Great. I want to hit a, a tech store, get some extra laptop batteries. Things." Rodney was fidgeting, frowning, and finally looked at Carson. "Why do I think they were already planning to do this?"

"Because they assigned us a bodyguard for the both of us and don't bother to give him quarters?" Carson suggested, showing that he wasn't slow when it came to putting things together.

"Well, we'll swing by the nearest stores after a couple. Or before. Max out our credit," John said easily. "Best not to over think the politics too much. It'll bite you in the ass, sure as hell."

"Already bitten," Rodney muttered, holding up a hand. He glanced at his wrist-watch, and looked thoughtful. "First, then. I think I'd rather be drunk for the plane ride than drunk with my credits account card in hand."

Carson got up slowly, taking off his lab coat. "Let's go back to our quarters, get our things and go. I'll buy the first round."

It was a sad thing that he wouldn't be drinking, John considered but he also stood to flank them both, making a mental inventory of things that might be useful, things that might smooth their way there.

There were things they'd be able to buy there, so there wasn't any point in taking too many of them. Clothes, boots, coats, it was bulky in luggage and you could get decent stuff in pretty much any country.

Electronics... not so much. He could get some little shiny electronics, maybe, save them for big problems, things that you could only get in the Northern Americas, or more expensively in the empire of Japan. And when two empires were subtly at war, getting goods like tiny mp3 players and game-things, was hard as hell. Chocolate definitely, luxury items. 

"Great. I'll buy the second and the third, and we should probably stop at three. Or so."

No point taking drink, or... he could do DVD's, CDs. He had lots of mp3's, he had... hmm, memory upgrades, cool toys. Yeah. That would work.

They were moving now, out the corridor up towards the sleeping quarters. Some of the ranks had houses on the base, some had dormitory buildings or there were the levels themselves.

Rodney had had an apartment off base, and he'd been living on base since Lorne had been promoted. He probably had his every belonging crammed in that space, too. Sometimes freemen hoarded, and it seemed to fit McKay's personality that he would, miserably stomping off down the hallway.

"Not a happy camper," Carson murmured to John. "Rodney... Rodney, I really don't think this is about what has happened, now..."

Maybe it was a combination of a year's worth of things like that, but John didn’t want to say that.

"They just can't take being wrong *over* and *over*. I don't know why they contract me if they're just going to mock me and ignore my recommendations," Rodney muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I could be in Nevada building bombs and working on hyper drive technology, you know."

"Aye, you could. But you wanted to work with the Stargate and you have been," Carson replied. "And the naqadah. It might be Rodney, that you are pretty much the only person who could do this. Who else knows enough about naqadah? Aside from Major Carter of course."

"Who apparently walks on water despite having written the most *flawed* piece of dialling code I've ever had the pleasure of repairing." Rodney was still frowning sharply, stomping along and turning down a hallway. 

Oh. Now it was becoming more obvious about the Challenges.

"She's part of SG1," John said. "Naturally they have a good reputation, especially with the Imperial command. That counts for a lot."

"Aye, and the saving the world thing probably doesn't go amiss either," Carson added.

"They can't save the world without power." Rodney stopped in front of a door, and reached into his back pocket to pull out his id card. It was quickly swiped down beside the door, and he pushed it open. "I'll get my wallet."

"Me too," Carson said doing the same a couple of doors a long. 

John loitered - his credit details were on his encrypted dog tags and Imperial credit was good anywhere. He peered into McKay's room, hearing the muttered swearing.

He'd left the door cracked open, so it wasn't hard to miss. And even if he'd closed the door, John had a feeling it would have gone on whether someone was listening or not. There had to be a way to distract him from the situation.

"Son of a!" There was a thud, and Rodney's voice trailed off into a whimper.

Temper, sounded like.

"You okay in there McKay?" John asked pushing the door open. "Being ambushed or something?" 

"Hah. Hah." Rodney had his back to John, and it looked like he'd been changing his shirt, because he had a new shirt pulled on over his grey t-shirt, and he kept his back to John. "Shit." 

"Seriously. I'd hate to screw up the body guarding thing on the first day," John said keeping half an ear open for Carson. 

"Hit my hand. Is all." Rodney shrugged his shoulder tightly, got his shirt the rest of the way on. "God dammit. Siberia. I can't believe this." 

"Shit happens," John said shrugging his shoulders. "I guess as an Imperial I'm used to being uprooted and sent wherever at a moment's notice. Must be tougher for you guys. Frees and contractors." 

"I'm used to having some *say* in where I'm going." Rodney kept his back to John, pulling open a drawer to take out his wallet. "I was in Nevada for six years. It was fantastic. I was with the internal Imperial investigators before that -- threats to the government, break off organizations, enclaves, spying things, it was fantastic. *Siberia* is going be the low point of my career."

"I'm pretty sure it'll be a step up for me," John murmured. "Fact is Dr McKay, we don't get to argue with order. You could always take a penalty clause and back out....?"

"Can't." Rodney flipped through his wallet, and shoved it into his back pocket. "I literally cannot take a penalty clause."

A penalty clause would mean never working with this level of the Imperial services again. This was the top level of classification and they didn't give second chances. John could understand that. "It's not a long term assignment," John tried to soothe him a little. "Six months maybe?"

"Yeah, maybe." Rodney turned around, rubbing his knuckles as he paced back towards John. They looked reddened, like he'd hit something hard. "Let's go. Supplies, then booze."

"Definite plan," John said and turned seeing Carson hovering behind him, waiting for them both.

The walk down to the vehicles was comparatively quiet. Carson filled up the empty silence by making rambling suggestion on what they should buy and what might be useful or the best investment and the upshot of the conversation was that by the time they had been to the stores selected, there wasn't much left in the way of small consumer electronics left.

Rodney was, not really surprisingly, a bit of a geek. He bought extra lithium-ion batteries and a solar recharger, and more little do-thingies than John could properly identify, and things to go with them. A lot of the smaller House stores were closed at that hour, so they ended up going to the bigger ones that sold more than one type of product, and John had been able to break off and get some other things he'd been plotting about.

He arranged for them to be parcelled up and sent up ready for dispatch with them from the SGC. It helped that he had very little in the way of personal possessions, because that meant his main space allowance could be necessary items like that and ten million DVD's, games, and CD's. And chocolate.

It was later than he would've liked when they finally got to a bar and he stared morosely at his non-alcoholic coke.

"Still can't believe it," Rodney muttered, into his second vodka -- Vodka, he'd said, because they might as well get used to drinking fermented processed potatoes, since he doubted that good beer from one of the Canadian-States would be at hand. "Hey, Sheppard? You leaving any family behind here?"

"No," John replied because his mother had died in a stupid training exercise when he'd been fourteen and his father...well his father had never been a confirmed kill in the action in the middle East, but he hadn't appeared on the War Slave accountings when the ceasefire came around at the end of the designated action time. "No, jumped around too much for that. Been on pretty much every continent. Except Antarctica."

Even the fucking North Pole, doing an air strike against a rogue Meta. That'd been hair raising.

"Don't say that too loudly around the base," Rodney grinned. "Or they'll send us on some half-assed trip there, too. You wait. We'll be shacking up with penguins, won't we, Carson?"

"Lovely creatures, penguins," Carson said agreeably. "Terribly...terribly faithful. Emperor Penguins mate for life. Eggs on their toes...all of that." He looked a little hazily at his nearly empty glass mournfully. "My mother was hoping I would visit her again. I was looking forward to Scotland. I don't think I'll...I'll get to see her this year..." His expression turned to tragic and he knocked back the vodka that was left in one gulp.

"Arrange to go after the contract transfer whatcha thingy," Rodney suggested. "I mean, they like you well enough. If my sister were hit by a truck, they wouldn't give me the time. Probably because I'd kill her owner, but, well. Yeah. Hey, bartender?" Rodney leaned forwards, gesturing with his empty glass at the man who stood behind the bar. He had brightly polished cuffs on his wrists, and a pretty face.

"Yes sir? Another drink?" the bartender asked brightly.

Not bad, John thought. Not bad at all.

He looked like the kind of guy that, if he'd had time and the opportunity, he might have seen if he could take home for a little fun once his shift was done.

"Please. Uh, the same. And my buddy needs a refill."

His eyes slid over the cuffs as the bartender poured, and John smiled, seeing a metal marked specialty in the Personal area. Couldn't make out the precise detail, and it was at the lower end of the metal types, steel or aluminum, but a metal was a good sign.

For the first time he was regretting having to ship out. Especially when the bartender caught his eye and smiled a little wider.

"Ah, a wonderful human being," Carson said looking at his drink. "It looks like...surgical alcohol, you know that? Maybe I could sell my surgical alcohol as 100% proof vodka."

Rodney snorted, and leaned onto his elbows. He was slouched, relaxed and lazy looking, eyes drifting around the room. "You'd kill them all, Carson, and then the guilt would get you."

"Would not. I'm capable… capable of being ruthless I'll have you know," Carson said waggling his finger at Rodney. "I'm a doctor you know... there's gore and blood and all of that..."

Much like being an Imperial then. So far it wasn't so bad. There was a couple of Pleasure slaves in the corner who looked a little bored and John was frankly surprised when one of them bothered to saunter over towards them. "Any of you...fine upstanding gentlemen want to buy me a drink?" she asked.

John blinked a little. She was okay, blonde and still with a good body. But he was technically on duty.

Rodney glanced at her, and his mouth fell down into a frown. "Ugh, I've had enough dumb hot blonds for one day. And no, Carson. No matter how much you wish you were that badass, you're not. You're just... Mister badass is sitting there with the coke."

John raised his eyebrow at her as she looked affronted. "Sorry, I'm on duty..." He let his smile imply that he would if he could.

"Shame..." She turned to Rodney. "And if I'm not your type, there's no need to be insulting about it, the bar contracts more than one of us. There's Jess and Tom over there if you were capable. But somehow I doubt it."

Carson sighed. "Aye, but you're a pretty wee thing..." he murmured leaning his head on his arm and looking at her.

Rodney grinned, and nudged John with a loose gesture. "I used to think he did that, the accent and the phrases, like pickup lines? And then I watched him scream at Captain Rente for being an 'bleeding idiot' when he put lemon in my coffee. It was great."

"Problem with the lemon?" John asked managing not to slop his coke around too much as the Pleasure Slave wandered back to the corner after waving at Carson, who managed to wave with fingers back.

"Massive allergy," Rodney nodded as he lifted his new drink, and grinned at the bartender. "Throat swells up and everything. It's pretty embarrassing."

"And...pretty deadly," John replied. "I need to know things like that. They dock my pay if I let you die." He gave a half smirk at him.

"I keep an epipen handy, just in case. Keeps things going until I can do anti-histamine shots." Carson added in a muffled voice. "And he doesn't really get hypoglycemic. Not enough to call it proper hypoglycemia. If he stopped the caffeine drinking, he'd have no problem at all."

John was impressed that Carson could apparently talk medical sense while being half-cut. "Oh, okay, sure, I'll just go cold turkey. And I'll stubbornly refuse to take any of your 'uppers' the next time someone needs me to calibrate nukes." Rodney leaned forwards a little, enough past and over John to stick his tongue out at Carson.

"Rodney... you've got two tongues. " Carson announced. "I always wondered how you talked so fast."

John snorted a little at that. A very good point and maybe a sign they had had enough. "Maybe we should think about heading back."

"It's our last night... day? Stateside for at least months. It's going to take forever for me to teach the Russians about, well, the thingy." Rodney took another sharp gulp, and then just swallowed and swallowed his drink, barely stopping to breathe. That took some skill, and John wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Well they can't all be stupid right?" John asked, stifling a yawn. It'd been over 24 hours and he was getting tired himself though he was trying not to show it. "At least they'll want to listen."

God, he really hoped so.

"Let's go back Rodney...I'll help you pack," Carson offered.

"But I'm already packed..." Rodney slipped off the stool. He'd already given the bartender his data, but Rodney leaned over to tell him to add ten credits for himself, and then went back to looking at Carson with a funny puzzled expression. "Oh! Oh. Packed."

"Aye..." Carson smiled happily and John stood up to help the inebriated Doctor. Doctors... yeah, both of them.

Well, maybe it would sweeten McKay's temperament. And at least that wasn't going to be a problem in Russia. "Come on you two, that's it. Oof, Dr Beckett? You need to lose some weight...."

"It's pure medical muscle son," Carson protested. "Got to have some protective covering to put the needles into..."

"He used to wrestle, back before they figured out he was brilliant. He was going to be a fighter." Rodney had probably never been about to be anything but what he was. He was still talking, yapping, really, and he had a good sense of balance for a drunk guy.

"Aye when I was about...Six. Seven, maybe. Then I got picked up on one of the IQ tests, but I still did the wrestling. My Dad was a Fighter, and there weren't that many Houses that would Challenge us with him on the books. Mum was always worried that the fights would kill him, but the irony was it was, was a genetic condition in the end. He just...wasted away from this brawny giant of a man to a shadow of himself," Carson shook his head. "Didn't seem right. Dying in the Fights, that's a job hazards, they get the good pay for that, but dying like that..."

Not something anyone wanted to think about. John didn't particularly expect to live to a ripe old age, but on the other hand he'd hoped to retire early enough to have some fun. Not a chance now.

"This way, back to the car..."

"Rodney was going to be a pianist," Carson said randomly. "Concert pianist. He's good, really good. But he could earn more as...astrophysicist genius than… musician... but you look at his cuffs… on the wall at his room. Look...He was gem level music. That's...that's bloody good."

"I didn't have the." Rodney waved one hand a little. "Spark. Soul. Something, I forget. It's not like it was some great tragedy and I lost my hands and I couldn't play anymore. I was better at other things. You were better than other things. Sheppard here was better in -- oh, wait. Born free."

"Born Imperial," John agreed. "Been serving since I was 15." It wouldn't have been an early retirement. Most people served the twenty but for them they didn't start as early. Train as early. "Guess it's different to growing up in a House." He yelped a bit and looked around at a pinch to his bottom.

Carson looked sheepish. "Sorry major, my aim is a little off tonight."

Really off. John was pretty sure that his ass was flat, and Rodney's ass wasn't. Rodney had kind of a bubble ass, not a trained personal's ass, but just nice in a natural way. "Is it a challenge offense if you hit on your *own* Imperial guard, Carson?"

"I hope not, because the wrestling was a long time ago," Carson replied. "I apologize John, I hope you will accept my apology."

John inclined his head graciously. "No-offense take Dr Beckett, no apology necessary."

"I'd be offended," Rodney smirked, giving Carson a wider grin, leaning past John again to do it. "Back to the base and we'll see you when the plane leaves?"

Least it might mellow Rodney out some. "Yeah," John replied. "Sleep on the flight."

He was in the middle of two drunk and horny scientists. He wasn't entirely sure if he felt annoyed or left out. Anyway, he wasn't going to get any sleep tonight. Not unless he borrowed a bed in the infirmary or one of the cells. Might be an idea.

* * *

Hell was Siberia.

It really went along with the whole literary concept that hell was cold, and Rodney understood that now. He could step outside and want to die. Walking from building to building in the Russian Gatecity was a hell that he couldn't conceive of and he hoped that summer would be better, warmer, sunnier. 

Because the weather could change, but Rodney was sure that his idiotic co-workers couldn't. 'Best of the best' was obviously an objective term in Russia.

They really were impossibly stupid, and resistant to being proved wrong. All they seemed to say was 'impossible' 'ridiculous' and 'the equations won't support it!' . 

They hadn't even bought free, so how good could they be? On the other hand, the Russian Empire had some strange rules about the House system and levying to the common good of the Empire which apparently meant personal gain didn't happen as fast. Anyway, what did he care? He was trying to teach them the basics of a naqadah generator, trying to get them to build mock ups and every single tiny little thing? They questioned and whined impossibly.

"Dr McKay, I am not seeing how putting a, ah, resistance buffer here, will have any effect," one of the Russians was saying hesitantly. "Surely it will... be counterproductive?"

"Oh, sure, it's counterproductive if your goal is to have us all be incinerated in a blaze of fire and radiation," Rodney cut in, leaning past him to point at the mock-up. "I have *built* these. Do you understand that? They exist. They work! And miraculously, none of us have died!"

The scientist , Dr Pershin, or whatever his name was looked affronted. "The yield conversion rate is stable enough that the buffer could be minimized and external output increased by approximately 8 percent! I can calculates an equation myself you know. You do not have the monopoly on good ideas."

"I think I have the monopoly of ideas where we don't end up *dead*," Rodney snapped. "The yield conversion rate spikes at a particular point, because Naqadah is exotic matter. You minimize the buffer, and things start to go to hell."

"What Dr Pershin is saying Dr McKay..." one of the female scientist said. "Is that whenever we suggest a development you deny it without consideration." She was quite prickly and had some ridiculous name like Sorcha Petrenko. 

He was willing to bet she'd scorched some pretrenkos in her day. "I'm not denying it without consideration. Have you perhaps considered that I can *think*, and read your equations and see where they're wrong? If you give me a good suggestion on a development, then you'll be surprised to see that I don't shoot it down."

"You have been here nearly two weeks Dr McKay, and as yet you have yet to acknowledge any idea's aside from your own!" Dr Kaibyshev announced. "I gave you some perfectly good calculations on the output potentials and I have been told that you did not even *look* at them!"

"Because I already *know* what the output potentials *could* be, but since I haven't even been able to get you all to finish a mock-up, let alone a working generator, that's skipping a few steps." Rodney tuned his chair and good lord, there was an uprising going on behind his back. "Naqadah is an unstable element."

"Perhaps," one of the observing military Russian Imperials cut in, "conveniently unstable...neh?"

"It wouldn't surprise me! It is no secret that Dr McKay does not want to be here, to *work* with us! Perhaps it is more than that. " Ah. Now that was the frothing idiot Meylev who self combusted on a regular basis.

"Oh, I don't want to be here *or* work with you -- surprise! -- but I'd also like to not have an ally of my country wiped off the map because they're using poor generator designs! I'm telling you, if you come up with something *useful* or intelligent, I'll gladly integrate it into the design. Hell, I'll take you out for drinks!"

Rodney knew he was starting to lose his temper, but frankly he didn't care. They weren't listening. The only one who seemed to be listening was the Czech guy he could never remember the name of, who was sitting back in the corner, looking at the schematics and muttering under his breath.

"Ha! You'd probably poison the drinks. That would be good for you, hmm? I knew this deal was too good to be true. The United States Empire would never release the real schematics to generators like this!" Meylev retorted. "You are trying to sabotage the Russian Empire. First you take our DHD, and then you destroy it, and then you are sent to *help* us, and all you have done is berate and yell very loudly as if we were idiots!"

"Because you're acting like idiots!" Rodney snarled finally. "Look, I'll build you a god-damned generator on my own -- these are the *real* schematics, and if your insane paranoia refuses to believe it than *FINE*!"

"I call Challenge!" Meylev pointed apoplectic with rage. "I hold gem level is calculus and astrophysics. I am no idiot, and obstructionism is obvious to everyone."

"Fine! Call challenge! If you're going to be that touchy, I'll just let you blow yourselves up the next time you get a bright idea!" He didn't dare turn his back to them, not when there was a mob of them.

"I shall have my champion contact yours," Meylev nodded tersely. "Again." He chose then to stand and leave in a huff.

Unexpectedly from the corner, the Czech with the strange hair put the schematics down. "It will work. They are genuine schematics. Maybe some improvements after we have seen one working yes?"

"Thank you! Finally, someone with two brain cells to rub together!" Rodney gestured over towards the Czech man. "This is really something you can only modify when you have a real one on hand to see the data on in real time."

"Yes, yes. The subatomic reactions look fascinating. Therefore... buffer yes? To stop cascade reaction and unstable isotopes.." He mimed a collision and explosion more to himself than the table of scientists.

"Dr Zelenka, that is ridiculous. You would need lead for that sort of control," Sorcha said in a patronizing tone.

Zelenka shook his head. "No, no...I see the mistake we are making. You are all looking at this as if it were a nuclear device. This is not. Is more... more like the cold fusion, yes?" He looked at Rodney, and Rodney got the distinct impression he was laying it on a bit thick for some reason.

That was fine. If he wanted to lay it on thick, Rodney didn't care. "Yes, that's exactly what it's like. The final result of a generator is small, portable. One of you could carry if. Do you think if it was a normal reaction, fusion or fission, we could *compact* it like that?"

"Cold fusion is impossible." Dr Pershin said folding his arms. "We disproved its viability some years ago."

And god, he sounded smug and patronizing about it too.

"Congratulations. Did you disprove it at the same time that your disproved the existence of space aliens and wormholes that were stable enough to allow travel through?" Rodney asked, letting a little mockery slip through his voice.

Pershin glared at him. "I am the head of the research department, not some neophyte... wet behind the ears. I am fully briefed in the Stargate project. I am warning you to have some more respect Dr McKay!"

"I'm being serious," Rodney reiterated. "At this point, you should know that nothing is impossible with the right technology."

"I find it hard to take seriously who immediately blew up valuable equipment the moment he secured it," Pershin said. "Or do you deny that the DHD is now a smouldering pile? Hmm?"

"I'm not denying that at all. Except. I'm here because I *told* them it was going to blow up. It wasn't an answer they liked, so here I am. Siberia. With all of you. I guess this is what we all get for being right about the DHD, hmn? Because the imperials never listen to their scientists." Rodney shifted, leaning back casually in his chair now. "So, it's probably a *huge* pile of disintegrated DHD and 10000 year old tech. Score one for the Imperials of the American SGC!"

"Such disrespect to your Imperials, " one of the Russian Imperials he didn't recognize mutter. "It is shameful!"

It was true, he didn't see the need to bow and scrape like a lot of them here did to the Russian Imperials.

"Hey, if *I* blow up a piece of 10,000 year old technology, it comes out of my pay for the next year. If they do it, they're heroes." Rodney shrugged his shoulders as he glanced at that imperial. Then he looked back towards the snotty near rebellious scientists. "So, Zelmkpah? over there agrees with me. Do you want to try building one and *then* we can work from there to improving the tech? Hey, and I'm not obligated to take any improvements back states-side with me."

There was a mutinous sullen silence, until there was a discrete clearing of a throat from a quiet high ranking Imperial in the corner.

"Well perhaps that is the way to understand the flaws...." Pershin said. "And his name is Zelenka. Dr Radek Zelenka..."

Zelenka raised his fingers in a wave of acknowledgement. "I am offering to make first if others too busy with own projects?" he suggested mildly.

"Zelenka," Rodney repeated, because maybe it would help him remember. "Fantastic. We'll build it, then, and in a home of weeks you all can test and throw theories, but I'm telling you that when you have your hands on the real thing you're going to see that the naqadah doesn't react the way that a normal radioactive substance would."

"We shall see," Pershin replied. "Very well. Dr Zelenka will be trained and will report for us on progress. If he produces a viable generator, we will construct more. Radek, your current assignments will be put on hold and you will work with Dr McKay full time until this is over, yes?"

Zelenka nodded gravely, looking at Rodney.

"Then this meeting is over," Pershin said and dismissed the scientist began to stand up and leave. And one their way out, two other scientists pressed folded notes down in front of him, announcing their intention to minor Challenges for disrespect and that they would be contacting his champion forthwith.

It was somewhat insane, because a challenge didn't mean that they'd be any *smarter* afterwards. Honor was good and fine when a person was actually *wronged*. Rodney glanced at them, snorted, and stuffed them in his shirt pocket. "Zelenka. Congratulations."

Zelenka shrugged. "Schematics are theoretically sound. Theory and practice very different yes? Still. Will be interesting, very interesting." He gave a smile that made him look younger. "See if you are as good as you think you are."

"My over-inflated ego has a reasonable source," Rodney assured him, glancing at his tablet notebook. "Look, why don't we start this off tomorrow. You're... contracted through who?"

"House Kolya. Main House for Imperial specialists. Buy contracts to make strongest house, strongest house becomes the Imperial science team," Zelenka replied with unconcern. "I will study this tonight yes? Start with knowledge tomorrow."

"Right. Then we'll, yeah, start tomorrow. Half the fun is getting this stuff made, but if someone lets me loose in a machinists' lab, I can do pretty good for myself. I was gem qualified in mechanical engineering." He didn't particularly WANT to do things completely from scratch, but they could if they had to.

"Yes good. I can take you there. We have lab on site which is very good. They will make anything you need," Zelenka said as he packed up his notes. "Tomorrow, oh 900 yes? In lab A."

"Lab A," Rodney confirmed. The scientists were all leaving, but the imperials were all looming in the room still, like someone had forgot to remind them to, oh, *leave*. Rodney started to pack up his laptops, carefully slipping them into their cases.

Zelenka nodded and left the room, keeping his head down as he went past the Imperials.

"An impressive meeting Dr McKay," that quiet high ranking general said. "Only managed to offend three of the science team today. I am...pleased that you seem to be making progress."

"Yesterday was five, wasn't it?" Rodney snorted, gave a glance to the general. He was a big, looming sort of man, nothing like General Hammond, who honestly reminded Rodney of his mother's father, the two times he'd ever seen the man.

"So I heard, " the man moved in closer showing his general stripes and twisting his face in a smile. "There is a saying that getting a room full of geniuses to cooperate is like herding cats. I can believe it. Still, it is of great importance that you successfully build the naqadah generators. No...disharmony should be allowed to imperil this project."

"No un-planned for naqadah based explosions should imperil the project, either, but some of the scientists don't seem as concerned with our collective demise as I am." Rodney glanced at the General's stripes and markings, and his tight, military issued smile. "Now that I have an inside helper, I think the project will go smoothly, General....?"

"Kolya. General Acastus Kolya," the man said. “I believe you are correct. I look forward to the development of this project. If you present your specifications to the machine lab, they will have them done for you as soon as possible. I suggest that to be your next stop."

"Right." Rodney closed the flap of his bag, still eyeing the General. Kolya, Kolya house. Let no-one say that the Russian Empire wasn't shameless in its nepotism. "Do you mind if I ask you where that is? I'm still learning my way around."

“Lieutenant Vorshanova, show Dr McKay to the machine lab immediately," he said nodding curtly to the Imperial who had muttered about his behavior earlier.

"Yes sir." The Imperial saluted and then moved over to him. "If you will follow me Dr McKay..."

"Fine. Let me get a coat on first. Is this *outside* new location or *inside* new location? Because if it's outside I have no idea how you all haven't frozen to death. Your uniforms don't really look warm." He had his coat tucked under the desk he'd claimed, a huge comfortable thing, and he reached for it since he was going back to his shitty apartment afterwards anyway.

"It is only a few steps across the compound," the Lieutenant replied. "And I have Russian blood. This is merely bracing." He smiled at him in a way Imperials did as if he was weak and helpless.

"I'm Canadian from a mining town, but you don't see me baiting frostbite." Rodney slipped the bag off his shoulder, and pulled his coat on in a hurry. They could think he was weak all they wanted but he liked to be able to breathe.

"Perhaps not. It is part of our training. We find visitors here are always complaining of the cold," the Imperial replied, setting off at a fair pace. He still sounded patronizing though, no matter what.

And that was fine. Rodney wasn't going to throw down a challenge for petty shit like the other scientists there did, because there was something wrong with him if he couldn't take as good as he gave. He had to hurry to catch up with the man, resituating his laptops on his back as he followed him down the starkly bare hall with the echoing cement floors. 

"I wonder why."

The man chuckled. "I see your disrespect is for all, not just Imperials. Your Imperial is kept busy yes?"

Very busy. Rodney couldn't actually remember the last time he *saw* John. Heard him, yes. Plenty. A voice on his radio checking in.

"Seems so. He's off doing his... thing." It was a lot like when Lorne was around, actually. There was a voice on his radio that he *assumed* would save his life, but he'd sort of liked the idea that he'd have John sitting over his shoulder in the lab. John had two of them to keep on top of, of course.

"Defending your honor," Vorshanova said with a smile. "A lot of honor to defend of course. It is of importance that these things are done correctly."

The challenges, right. Sheppard seemed like he was a strong guy, and Rodney could guess what kind of people the other scientists had for fighting their challenges. He shrugged his shoulders. "It's not my fault everyone takes offense at the tiniest things. I didn't expect here to be land of the touchy feely offended people, exactly. Not with this--" Vorshanova opened the door, and stepped outside. "Oh, fuck, that's cold."

The lieutenant laughed against, his breath immediately billowing up. "Come, you will be freezing if you do not move fast. And that would be a bad thing. Your comrade Dr Beckett would have to thaw you out..."

And there was just something *off* about the way he was talking.

Rodney wasn't sure what it was, but there was definitely something that had the hair on the back of his neck up when he stepped out into the snow to follow the lieutenant as closely as he dared. He'd get to their machinist's shop, leave the specs for the most basic parts he and Zelenka would need to start with, and then go home.

If there ever was a time he wanted his own Imperial to watch his back, it was now. He could use Sheppard there, not off with his feet up checking in by radio when he felt like it. 

It wasn't far to the machine shop, but it felt like an eternity chilled to the bone. Maybe he could get some vodka, and get Carson drunk again. Stupid idiot had obviously gotten side tracked from testing for the ATA gene and was probably doing something messy and unnecessary in one of the Infirmary research area. God only knew what he was messing about with down there.

Biological weapons, probably.

Rodney pressed his arms more tightly against his body, and hurried after the guard. He'd bear through it, despite the smirking Imperial.


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

Siberia was Hell. The coldness he could deal with, he'd endured worse but it was hell because there had been no let up since the first day they arrived there. 

The Russian's took their challenges *very* seriously, and these were no spar or drill fights he was doing and goddammit, he had no idea how McKay managed to offend quite so many people in the space of a day.

Checking his messages became a means of estimating how much pain he was going to be in. He was good. He was good, surprisingly good and already he had been allocated a challenge star marking official fifty point wins which was just *ridiculous*. No one got that sort of rating without being a professional fighter, especially one with the bar, showing he was defending by proxy. 

He was hoping tonight’s three would've been easy ones. The first had been unarmed and he won that, though his nose was bleeding and more bruises join the never decreasing amount on his body. The second...the second had been a non-bladed weapon, and he'd taken in his sticks and the other guy, fighting for the honor of a Dr Pershin, came in with a metal chain! What the hell was that all about? Was that even allowed?

It apparently was. 

The Russians were crazy. Not just crazy hah hah, look at their screwed up system, but crazy what the fuck were they even doing *with* a country crazy. Whatever Rodney had said or done had to have been horrible to get a guy to show up to a fight with a god-damned chain.

Problem was, they didn't exactly give training on stick to chain combat in the Imperial training, and he was having to improvise his defense on the fly, and that wasn't quick enough to stop the guy --Nikolai, from the shouts of the crowd observing the combat -- from making a few palpable hits.

It was almost gratifying to hear his own support section groan - he'd managed to acquire a bit of a following in the last couple of weeks, if only for the fact they couldn't believe he was carrying out most of the fights personally.

He'd won eventually, by snagging the chain on the sticks and then elbowing the other fighter in the face as he yanked him forward into said elbow.

It left him with nothing for the last fight though. Not after that, and the day before when he had won five and woken up in one of the infirmary bays being stitched up. 

This last fight was not going well.

Hand to hand again, and he almost wished it was the sticks because there was something about them that was bearable. It jarred his joints and his shoulders and arms, but they took the blows more than his body did, lessened the pain he'd face the next day.

Idos -- and John as sure that wasn't his name -- was an imperial of a rank that John couldn't make out from the way he'd taken his uniform jacket off and thrown it on one of the chairs off to the side. He looked lean and lazy, and John knew that had to be deceptive.

If only because it was a look he worked on himself to lull opponents into a false sense of security.

"Challenge fought between designated champions of Dr Rodney McKay and Dr Vasili Meylev regarding an insult to honor on this day. Insult minor - terms agreed at hand to hand, bout concluding in terms of a yield, a pin for three-count or knock-out." The recorder of challenges announced. "Major John Sheppard for Dr McKay versus, Lieutenant Idos Kolya for Dr Meylev. Begin at the sound of the bell."

Well, this wasn't the guy who he had fought on, oh, five other separate occasions for Meylev. He'd been a challenge up to the point he'd worked out his style, then the last couple of bouts had been quick.

This was not going to be quick and his shoulder wasn't moving right, or his leg and...crap, he wasn't ready for this.

He'd fight it, had to, but he knew he wasn't going to win. It was time to start planning in his head what to do when and if he lost. Idos smiled at him, a wide, lazy smile as he stretched and swung his arms around his body a little, warming up.

"Come on, Mister American. I have heard so much about you. Show me how you fight!"

"What you haven't been watching? Pretty much everyone else has been." John replied trying to roll his shoulders to get them to loosen as well, and that was just unpleasant with all those crunching sounds.

He'd declare proxy if he lost. If the guy wanted a fine, he'd pay it and then get it out of McKay's earnings. Humiliation, or a blowjob was nothing unusual. Not for him, but for McKay? Big trauma. And if he was having a big trauma, he wasn't working and they weren't getting out of this hellhole.

The bell rang.

Idos hung back, for a moment, before he lunged at John. Jesus, he moved like a panther, muscles tight and not actually lazy once he got moving. He took a swing at John's chest.

He managed to sidestep enough to grab at the lunging out arm and try and yank him off balance. He wanted to hook out his feet but his fucking knee had locked and he missed that opportunity which was a shame because he wouldn’t be that cocky again. Idos dodged like he'd been expecting the move John had been going to do, and then he twisted, driving the heel of his palm solidly up against John's jaw.

Jesus, he almost bit through his tongue. John saw stars and staggered, but automatically blocked a follow up punch and his over worked adrenalin kicked up a gear and he pushed into and all or nothing attacking, feeling he was landing blows and managing to get the other man *down* just by sheer bull-headedness.

Just because he maybe *could* win, no proxy payment needed, no chance that someone would turn down proxy -- which never happened stateside, but neither did someone showing up to a fight with a *chain* in their hands. He got a few good hits on Idos, and then he felt, instead of saw, a fist hit his chest.

It didn't crack a rib, but it felt like it could've done and he felt the air push out of his lungs, especially with a follow up punch to the stomach. Immediately his body panicked about being able to breath and that was gap enough for the other man to have him twisted over and down.

He could've just taken it then, but some perverse part of him just made him fight it all the way to the end. Kicking out where he could, twisting to try and break a hold...

But he held on, too tight, struggling to keep John pinned which made him perversely proud.

"Pin count in One! Two! Three! Lieutenant Idos Kolya for Dr. Meylev for the win!"

There was a cheer from one section of the crowd, and a groan from his own supporters. He lay still then, just taking a moment, just one damn moment to breathe and try and remember what life had been like without pain.

Eventually he opened his eyes and looked up at his opponent. "Designated proxy," he managed. "You wanna discuss terms?"

He didn't rant and rail about losing. There was no point. Idos held a hand down to him to help him up. "Perhaps. Come, you have had a hard night."

He accepted the hand up and tried not to show too much weakness. It would just make tomorrow worse. "Thanks. Not one of my better performances. Nice move by the way." John wouldn't get caught by that one again.

"I don't usually fight this way," the man told him as he straightened up and stepped away from John, leading the way away from the ring. "But you have made quite a stir and I wanted to experience it. You're good."

"Not good enough," John replied following him with slow deliberate care. "And I never claimed to be a fighter. If you wanted to experience it you could've just asked for a sparring training session." Fuck, he just wanted to go soak in a hot bath and try and draw out the worst of the stiffness. That or sit down. "So. Terms right?"

"Meylev's proxy was tired. Most proxies, they take a break, you know?" Idos grinned at him. "You should speak with your Doctor McKay about giving you a rest."

"He doesn't exactly... have anyone else as an option," John replied. "And far as I can work it out, trying to get Dr McKay to talk like a human being to other people is a bit like asking him to not breathe. Mind if I sit?"

Idos shook his head. "Please, sit. What are you offering for the loss, as a proxy?"

Thank god, because it was either sit or fall over and that would be ridiculous. "Minor insult right? So a fine, payment, or minor...service. If you are a designated proxy, payable to you, or to Meylev."

Meylev always proxied. He looked that up on the sheets, but tonight he had been in enough of a blur to not bother. He needed to find a way to lock Rodney in his room for a couple of days so he could recuperate. Maybe he could bribe Carson to have a weekend of sex with him or something. *That* was something John still hadn't wrapped his head around. They never talked about it and it was completely relaxed and casual, which were things that John didn't associate with Rodney. 

"And if I am not proxy?"

"Then the negotiations have to occur with Dr Meylev," he exhaled. "Which would be....fun."

"I am sure it would take a notch out of Doctor McKay if Meylev were to not proxy," Idos said has he slid into a chair across from John. "But as you know, he always does, and I am his proxy."

"Well then." It was probably the way that Meylev persuaded him to do the fight. He always felt better about dealing with fellow Imperials. "So what were you wanting from a win? I have uh...plain old credit, or some imported items that might interest you - chocolate, DVDs, that sort of thing. Or...uh a minor service?"

Idos smiled at him. "I am a Kolya. I can afford to import things if I wanted them, and my interests in material goods are fairly slim." He lifted his eyebrows, and the suggestion was pretty clear to John.

"A service then," John replied and mentally sighed. He hoped he wasn't into some weird shit, because while kinky was fine, they had a bit of a different idea about that sort of thing over here. "Menial or sexual? Clean your quarter...which I doubt, or what were you hoping for? Blowjob, some minor fetish thing or...something?"

Theoretically a minor wouldn't warrant penetration but right now, John didn't care.

"Blowjob," Idos decided, a slight smile twitching his lips. "But I am not into humiliation, so not here."

"Fine. So there is my place or your place." He shouldn't be so matter of fact about it, but it was one thing his mother had always insisted on. Training with the Personals because if you did get taken as a War-slave, those broken by serving as a pleasure slave missed opportunities for escape. Sex was just another tool when he wanted it to be. And he pretty much enjoyed it too.

Idos was a *really* good looking guy. He had slightly curled hair and a lean face, a good complexion and a strong body. Sucking his cock wasn't going to be a chore at all. "My place. It isn't so far. Think you can walk there?"

Hell, he needed the endorphins. Maybe he'd throw in more. "Sure. I'm not that bad." At least he hoped he wasn't but he had taken a few more painkillers than he should've. He stood up carefully, straightening slowly. "Lead on."

Idos did. Waited for him to shrug a coat on and fasten it up before he stepped outside and broke the thick warmth of the building that the ring was in. It gave John the chance to get his brain around him a little, the chance to take in the fact that Idos out-ranked him in the Russian Imperial system.

So, that was fair enough. Losing to him. John didn't mind losing when it didn't affect anyone else aside from him. What he worried about most was losing and being not in a position to claim proxy. He couldn't see McKay giving a blow job, or taking a punishment -- fortunately not an option on the minor insults, but they'd drifted over into that territory a few times... The whole set up was complicated and most often if a service was required, the debtor would pay someone to take it for them. Or owe a friend a favor. Bit of a problem out here in Siberia where Rodney's allies consisted of him and Carson. And there was no way he was letting Carson go through anything like this.

So, sucking off a higher ranking Russian Officer... could actually do him some good in the end. Worst case scenario, there was a guy who might be willing to do him favors to a claim on John's mouth. Not so bad for John, and he was good looking. It as something John focused on as he walked through the cold, towards a building at the far end of the complex.

The House Kolya quarters. The moment they set foot inside, he could see what Idos meant about being rich enough to buy what he wanted. His quarters were like a jail cell compared to this.

And it was warm, thank god. He followed him along corridors and up some stairs to a very secure level. He was probably going to need an escort to *leave*, but John didn't care because they not only felt warm, but it was decorated warm, wood-colors and red and deep browns. It was inviting for a House's quarters, something John didn't usually see.

To be honest, he didn't get to see many House quarters as his life had been in Imperial quarters and the Imperials didn't go in for imaginative architecture. He waited for Idos to key open a door and took the invitation to go inside.

It was immaculate. Warm wood, soft lighting, a fire and what looked like a bathroom, and several other room.

"Wow. I've got to start taking the promotion ladder seriously," he said as he looked around, his mind temporarily distracted from his aches and pains.

"You get promoted, you get the rewards that go with it. Nice quarters, not having to fight mouthy freemen's battles..." Idos closed the door behind John, and locked it. It was just a flip lock, nothing complicated with a key. So he wasn't keeping John in, but other people out. "Would you like something to drink?"

He wasn't meant to with the pain meds but fuck it. "Yeah, anything you've got please," he said remembering to be polite.

Idos smiled as he reached for a decanter that was balanced on one countertop. "Have you seen combat?"

"Yeah. Seen it. Even been in it a few times," he said wryly. "You?"

"Of course. I come from a large, well off house, but we all see combat as a rule." Idos poured him a glass, and held it out to John. "We work here knowing what the Gate holds on the other side, and that we could all die defending the country."

"Well, that's pretty much the deal for most Imperials no matter what country right?" John replied taking the glass and a sip. It was strong, strong and good. Some brandy or cognac. "So relations to the Master of House Kolya ?"

"Son." Heir to the house. Holy shit, he was heir to the house, and standing there as calm as anything, drinking with an American. He took a sip of his own drink, and leaned back lazily against the counter. "Technically nephew, but it is a complicated story."

"Sounds it. You're a House Heir and running as an Imperial?" John asked unable to conceal his amazement. "Is this some Russian thing?"

"It's a House Kolya 'thing'," Idos smiled. "We take pride in our history of serving the Empire. My father served, and his father before him and his father before him. We have outlasted many changes of ruling styles."

"Good for you," John replied taking a larger gulp of the cognac. "Born Imperial myself. Both my parents were Imperials so no House allegiance, just to the Imperials." It might be why he reacted to people under his command and protection so intensely. On the other hand it might... not. "but I'm pretty sure you're not interested in that. And if I drink much more of this, I won't be fulfilling any type of service at all. And that would be a big shame."

"True," Idos smiled lazily. He moved to sit down in a large leather armchair, and he abandoned his drink.

Seemed like a meaningful move. Seemed like an invitation. John peeled off his coat, his jacket, took another gulp of the cognac and carefully lowered himself to his knees in front of him. "This what you had in mind?" He was pretty sure it was. A lot of men got turned on by winning and then taking a prize like this. John was pretty sure he was weird because he liked it both ways. Made this sort of thing easier though.

"This is exactly what I had in mind." They were both bruised, both beat up, but John had two weeks of it ground into his skin. Idos put his hands gently on John's shoulders, sliding a hand up to stroke a thumb over the line of his neck.

It was amazing how many sore areas he touched on the way, and how much John didn't care. Good looking guy, sex, something that even McKay had been getting more of than him so... it wasn't hard to lean in, wasn't hard to make it more than just a business deal.

His hands moved over Idos' groin, feeling yes, he was hard, he had been turned on by the whole thing and that was good. 

Great. He didn't seem like the kind of guy who'd fuck John's face, or fuck his throat, and he was peering at John with a relaxed look on his face. He gave a quiet laugh, and shifted his hips gently. "Perfect."

"And I haven't even got started yet," he said with a soft grin. Maybe he was used to something without finesse. Maybe he should write a book on how to win allies and influence people through liberal sucking of cock.

It made him smile as he managed to get Idos' cock into the light of day with careful manoeuvring. And then to his lips, still with the taste of cognac on them.

He was clean, which was something of a relief for John. The taste was warm, familiar, and Idos had a comfortably sized cock. Not too big, not too skinny, just comfortable for John to wrap his lips around, and when he did it, Idos groaned quietly.

It was stupid, but if he did have pride of any kind it was that he was as good at losing as he was at winning. If he was going to suck cock as a payoff, it was going to be the best damn blow job the guy had ever had. He was going to think, yes, he hadn't been shortchanged on payment, he was actually doing well out of it because that put him in his debt.

So it was screwy painkiller and alcohol logic, but Idos was enjoying the experience and it wasn't too bad from where he was either even if he hadn't a clue what the guy was babbling about in Russian. 

He assumed it was on the lines of "you're a sex god, don't stop, no one has ever made me feel like this". 'Do it yourself' pride and dignity once again to the rescue as John sucked like a high class Pleasure Slave and wondered if he was hitting all the right spots.

It seemed like he was. Idos only shifted a little, but his voice was full of soft sighs and bit back groans that John recognized as the sounds of a man who'd learned about sex in a barracks, trying to keep quiet to avoid the teasing of his fellow Imperials. He stroked fingers through John's hand, one hand petting idly, the other resting loosely on John's shoulder. 

The skin under his shirt burned, and it was probably somewhere where he'd taken a hit that night, but right now he didn't care because he was moving with the confidence of someone who had done this more than just a few time. He liked sex, nothing wrong with that. He hadn't machoed it out, claiming he didn't need to be taught anything when the Personal classes came up. He went to them, liked them and saw nothing wrong with using those skills as much as he would've used his piloting skills if they'd been applicable.

He moved slowly then, gathering some pace. Carefully, easing up to it until the only sound in the room was the wet noise of mouth on cock and Idos groaning, shifting a little, talking up that quite storm of Russian that John didn't understand except in tone. Yeah, that sounded like high praise, and he was going to drag it out as far and as long as he could.

Never harmed to have the Heir to the wealthiest House around on his side, or at the least well disposed towards him. He'd have to learn Russian or at least the bits that translated to 'faster' or 'harder' or stop or 'fuck me you're a sex god!'. Especially that last one.

He just let himself drift into the doing of it all, sucking down, swallowing , moving, exploring with his tongue until he felt Idos reach his limits.

It was easy to tell, when fingers in his hair turned shaky and unsteady, when movements seemed strained and Idos' voice broke at the edges, his words coming in a pant, a begging tone. His cock felt heavy in John's mouth, and John could taste the musky pre-come on his tongue.

He knelt up then, adjusting his angle and guiding the other man's hands to his head and then planting his own on Idos' thigh so there would be something to push back against, because he knew the other man wanted to thrust and that would give the impression of that but he could make sure it didn't choke the hell out of him. Useful trick from his Personal classes.

Taking natural instincts and putting them to *his* best advantage. It worked, because Idos thrust up against his hands, and he didn't choke John when he started to come, fingers roaming restlessly through John's hair to the tune of more groans and mutterings.

Easy enough to take it and swallow; they'd had things from the canteen that tasted worse and even easier just to rest there for a while before letting his cock slip from his mouth. Service worked off, end of story. If he wanted it to be.

Idos was still petting his hair, fingers easy, relaxed. "That... was magnificent, Sheppard." Magnificent. Trust them to learn the ten dollar words, and probably learn them first. 

"Good. I'd hate you to feel short-changed. I was kinda hoping that the commentary was appreciative," John replied, shifting a little uncomfortably. It was amazing what you could ignore during sex.

"Very." Idos smiled, and shifted, sitting up a little. "That was worth more than the offense I was proxying, you know? Why don't you stay the night. We could take care of some of your aches and pains, and... other aches."

Well. Wasn't like McKay didn't *owe* him. John nodded, "You know, that sounds great. Better than hanging out at one of the Infirmary stations anyway."

He had no idea how bad it was this time and frankly, he could probably ignore it for those sex endorphins.

He was going to feel like shit in the morning, anyway.

* * *

Carson thought it was a bit odd that Major Sheppard had asked him over the radio to keep Rodney under control for an evening. He wasn't sure why, but apparently he wasn't to let him out, and he’d find some chocolate on the table in his room to lure him in there -- he just had to keep him there.

Funny thing was, he wasn’t sure, but Major Sheppard had sounded a wee bit desperate. And he didn't mind having Rodney around with a bottle of vodka and a few things charmed out of one of their patients and a couple of the DVD's they'd bought along.

It seemed like a simple, relaxing sort of evening, and when he'd radio'd Rodney to get him to come by, Rodney had seemed a wee bit shaky himself. So it seemed like a generally good idea. Everyone stayed in their rooms and they were comfortable and life was good.

Or would be, as soon as Rodney arrived to his room. He'd said he just needed to go by the machinist's shop one more time.

He had everything ready and he started to think about going out to find Rodney. Just in case he'd got wrapped up in his work, which could happen. Then he remember the radio and tapped it. "Rodney? Are you on your way up? Or do I need to come find you?"

There was a long silence and then he heard, "I'm on my way up. That oh so helpful Imperial was creeping me out, so I took the long way. He'd never expect me to be out here longer than I need to be."

"What, again?" Carson said. "Well don't worry, when you are up here, he'll get a door locked in his face." For a moment, he considered getting the Major to go after Rodney.

"I don't know if it's his idea of being friendly or what." He could hear Rodney's suspicion and distaste in his voice as he walked, and he was probably going to keep talking until he was at Carson's door. "So, what's this about again?"

"Thought you might like an evening in," Carson said, opening the door to look out for him. "And John asked if we wouldn't mind staying in tonight."

"Oh. Huh, bet he probably has a hot date, then. Well, it's not such a sacrifice for me," Rodney murmured into the mike. "Have you *seen* him in the past week or so?"

"Not really. Actually, thinking about it, hardly at all since we got here. " Carson replied as he peered out the window of their apartment. He waved as he saw Rodney approaching. "Shame really, he seemed like a real friendly type."

"Lorne seemed like a friendly type, too, and then he just disappeared. I suppose that's what Imperials do. I wish he could do something about Imperial LeersaLot, but..." Rodney waved back to Carson.

"Maybe you could talk to him," Carson said. "Hurry up, it's warmer inside and I've got chocolate, drinks and some strange things a patient gave me."

"Is this good strange or borscht strange?" Rodney visibly hurried, and he jogged into the building itself. He'd be up soon, and Carson would feel a little better. It was hard to tell if Rodney was exaggerating about the Imperial or not, but whichever it was, Rodney was concerned about it in his head.

"Well they taste okay. I think they are a sort of cake or something," Carson said. He had gone to great lengths to acquire things he knew Rodney would like.

"Huh. I like cake. Cake, chocolate and movies? That sounds suspiciously like bribery, Carson." There was the echoing sound of feet up a stairwell.

"Well, yes. It is. Otherwise I don't get to see you," Carson admitted. "What with my duties and your rearranging the laws of physics, things can get a little lonely up here."

"Haven't been making friends with your fellow doctors?" There was a faint hint of mockery, because Rodney certainly hadn't been. There was the one man owned by Kolya House, Doctor Zelenka, that Carson had heard Rodney sing the praises of. But it was just the one.

"Well, there is a wee bit of professional rivalry there and they don't like the fact I am a Freeman, and they are not," Carson answered as Rodney finally made it to the door. He tapped off the radio. "Finally!"

There was a lazy sort of knock on the door that kept up until he pulled the door open after flipping off the locks. His apartment was sort of comfortably bare, and the sofa was comfortable and clean. "It's strange to work *only* with slaves. Slaves who have full doctorates and have had them for years and call insult challenge. Hi."

"Hello Rodney." It was ridiculous but he missed seeing him as well. He very nearly leaned in to kiss him, but that would be a little awkward as they had only actually done anything when drunk. "Well, they have to have something to do here. I haven't had anyone actually call an insult on me."

"That's because you've been seducing them with your Scottish brogue. It's a shame no-one can tell Canadian from American. They all go 'Oh, you're from THAT continent, and they're all assholes'." Which was a stereotype Rodney wasn't actually fighting with his actions. He stood close to Carson, eyeing him for a moment before he walked into his apartment. "So, think Sheppard has a hot date?"

"Possibly. Can't begrudge the man. Must be pretty difficult being the only American Imperial here," Carson said pouring out a generous drink. "And he doesn't get much in the way of official off duties."

"Well, someone's been fighting my challenge fights," Rodney shrugged, tossing himself down on Carson's sofa. "I haven't heard back from anyone about fines."

"So he's doing his job. " Carson handed him a glass. "We only met him for that one night. He was pretty decent about everything then. Must’ve been a shock to him to fly in from Afghanistan and then straight out here. Was to me as well. And none of these bloody Russians have the ATA gene."

"Not a one?" Rodney grimaced as he took the glass, and took a sip of it to test. "Have you tested all the imperials?"

"Not all of them yet. Admittedly the combination is ridiculously small, but getting hold of them to give me a blood sample is turning out to be difficult," Carson sat down next to him. "How's your generator building with Dr Zelenka going?"

"Huh, good and bad. Zelenka is really smart." Rodney leaned back, worming himself into the cushions, and then he leaned forwards to set his drink down and only then did he start to strip himself out of his huge jacket. "Brilliant. The machinists who make the parts are less than precise, and we're trying to not build a generator that's held together with bondo."

"I'm taking it that would be a bad thing," Carson said as he reached to offer him chocolate. "Well at least he is capable of learning. That a start. When he understands, maybe he can convince the others."

"Not when he understands. He *does*," Rodney assured him as he dropped his coat off to the side of Carson's sofa. Not where Carson would have put it, but he wasn't going to argue with Rodney just then. "He's fantastic. I want to take him home with us fantastic."

"If he's that good, they won't want to sell him," Carson pointed out. "And House Kolya seems rich enough as it is. You could see if ...hmm..." John was an Imperial not a Challenge Fighter. "Maybe you could get him to invite Challenge or something."

"Doubt he would," Rodney shrugged. "He doesn't seem the type, and if I suggested it I might be cited for inciting or enticing or whatever they'd call it under their rules."

"I'm not sure what we call it under ours," Carson said putting his feet. "John did leave us a pile of DVD's to entertain us. You want to watch something? Oh and I got a tray of stuff from the canteen in case you missed lunch or dinner again. That is not good for your hypoglycemia."

"I thought you said I wasn't *really* hypoglycemic?" It was a vague challenge, but without much heat. "Dinner, actually. Zelenka said he wasn't hungry so we kept working." Rodney twisted to look around for the tray. "In the kitchen?" he asked, snagging a chocolate.

"Yes. Cold mainly, but I could make you a world famous toasted cheese sandwich?" Carson offered. "And you court the hypoglycemia with this... skipping meals and caffeine intake."

"I'll have to start eating in the lab," Rodney shrugged. "Zelenka takes his dinner with someone in his house. Which is probably why he'd say no to challenge. So, toasted cheese sandwich?" Rodney was to his feet again, more than a little restless. At the rate Rodney wasn't drinking, he was never going to get laid.

He didn't quite have the courage to approach him without the support of generous helping of alcohol, and that meant he had only vague sort of recollections of having a really good time and waking up either sore, or sticky. Or both.

Carson got up. "That I can cook in here. Traded the maker for the cure for an embarrassing personal problem from one of the officers. Didn't want it on his record if you know what I mean."

And it really was as easy as cheese, bread and a dash of his carefully horded lea and perrins sauce. He'd probably end up making them until he ran out of bread and cheese.

"Ooh, which officer?" Rodney shadowed Carson into the kitchen, close enough that Carson could feel his carefully hoarded warmth. "See, you've already made friends here!"

"Patient confidentiality Rodney. Ethics..." Carson grinned. "Of course he wasn't *officially* a patient..."

He put the tray from the canteen in front of Rodney and then found out his cheese, and then the bread and turned on the sandwich toaster as he prepared it all for two large toasted cheese sandwiches. "It was that oily looking corporal.. Lasliyav or something. Been playing outside his league."

"And getting the rashes to go with it?" Rodney laughed quietly. "So, is that what you've been doing? Testing people who don't want to be tested and treating STDs?"

"Well, and helping with some consulting," Carson said. "Telling them about new advances that they might not've got wind of out here in the middle of nowhere. There's always something going on." In went the buttered bread, sizzling as he clamped it shut. "But realistically? I'll be done in no time. Mind you it means I can work on identifying the gene sequences and some gene therapy. I could use finding someone with a really strong ATA gene though, and Colonel O'Neill is way back over wherever SG1 are at the moment."

"I can't get you to test me again, can I?" Rodney asked, reaching out towards the food and stopping short. "Oh! Test Sheppard."

"Sheppard? " Carson blinked. "Oh. See now why didn't I think of that? I thought I'd covered everyone at the SGC but of course he was not long there before we came here. Maybe I'll drop in on him tomorrow or something. Ask him for a blood sample."

"See how he's been doing," Rodney added, and it wasn't Carson's imagination. Rodney was *really* close behind him. "That's the kind of nice thing you do anyway."

"Aye well... maybe he'd like a toasted sandwich as well right?" he said trying not to let his voice shake. If he turned around *now* he would be in Rodney's arms and practically kissing him.

And he wanted that.

"Probably. You're going to get a lot of use out of that around here, even the food at the cafeteria." Rodney didn't move away, either, and then hallucination quick, he felt a peck of a kiss against the nape of his neck.

That was enough of a signal. Enough to have him turn to stand brushing lip to lip just from their positioning. "Saying thank you Rodney?" he murmured

"I think so," Rodney mumbled against Carson's mouth. "So, it's okay for this to not be just a booze thing? Because a lot of people won't sleep with me unless they *are* drunk..."

Carson closed his eyes a moment. "I just have a wee bit of a confidence problem, that's all. But I'll show you how much I want you, with or without alcohol..."

And he kissed him on the lips, not wanting Rodney to feel ever again that Carson had to be drunk to want him.

It was pleasant, because Rodney's lips parted just a little, and he exhaled while he wrapped his arms around Carson. He'd seen Rodney's physique as a doctor, but it was one thing to see and another to feel him, skinny half-toned body hugging Carson tight while he tipped his head to deepen the kiss.

Staying in for an evening was going to be no problem at all, not now or ever, Carson decided as he moved into a more deliberate contact than before.

Well, only one problem. The cheese toasties were burning.

And he really, really didn’t care.

* * *

Morning afters were a so-so thing.

There'd been that freaky Imperial that Rodney had sometimes sucked off, and that wasn't particularly something that involved morning afters, no, but it did get *immediately* awkward. Most people Rodney was with did that. Hung over mornings after with Carson didn't happen, either -- one or the other of them snuck back to their rooms. 

But this was something nice.

Carson, it turned out, once he got over that first step had no problems expressing himself physically and afterwards, literally enveloping Rodney in an embrace which had remained until morning. At this precise moment in time, he was practically cuddled up to him. In a manly way, of course, with his arms draped over Rodney.

He also wasn't snoring, which was always a plus.

It was novel enough to make him jittery. Not that Rodney McKay didn't know what to do with new things, no, but more that he never wanted to admit that actually waking up with someone in a comfortable position was *really* novel. Carson was something else in sex, and it was nice to remember that. Experience it without booze, too. Carson was solid and muscular, and Rodney had savored everything they'd done. And now...

Now he could lie there, shifting a hand up between them to stroke fingers over Carson's mouth, over Carson's stubble.

It was different somehow. Their society was one that meant sex was there for the asking if you wanted to pay for it, which at once made it more commonplace and then again something like this rarer and more special than he anticipated. His touch was enough to stir Carson, and for a moment he was worried that the other man might suddenly realize what he had been doing and recoil in shock. But Carson opened a sleepy eye and smiled slowly when he saw him there, and the arm drifting over him, stroked and patted absently at his back. "Morning."

"Hey, morning." He was more awake than Carson, but he also was probably more nervous. There was something fascinating about watching people sleep, that relaxed state, but Rodney's fingers lingered, feeling over Cason's jaw even though he was still awake.

"I'm pretty sure my face isn't about to fall apart, even if I did think most of my bones turned to jelly last nght. Jello....jelly whatever you Americans call it," Carson murmured. "So, this is new right?"

"Yeah, this is new." Rodney let his fingers linger back over Carson's jaw, back to beneath his ear. "Jello, except there wasn't much jiggling."

"Well... just a wee bit. I'm not quite as fit as I should be," Carson replied. With a slight smile. "You look surprised. Not about the jiggling but about...this?"

"I liked the jiggle." Rodney wasn't that fit, either. Pleasure slaves all looked *perfect*, and perfect people made him think of paying money for the pleasure of getting off. Carson on the other hand was very real and very still laying there with a smile on his face. "Usually, people show me the door."

"Seems a little redundant. I'm sure you already know what a door is," Carson replied with a half smile. "I'm more interested in keeping you here."

"That's the novel part," Rodney smiled loosely at Carson. He shifted a little, pressing his body back against Carson's, hips against hips, thigh to thigh.

"Well, we're both busy people and..." Carson's eyes widened. "Bloody Hell, what time is it?"

"Uh... " Rodney twisted around, looking for Carson's -- oh, of *course* Carson had a clock that wasn't digital, that made Rodney have to think. "Oh, shit! It's almost eight! I have to be in the lab in ten minutes!"

"And I'm meant to be at the clinic at as well!" Carson flung back the covers and went to leap out of bed but hesitated for one moment. "Bugger being subtle. Rodney, I really enjoyed last night and I don't want us to rush off now and then things be all ...awkward. Do you want to carry on with this? What we're doing? Because I would..."

"Yeah. Yeah, I, I do." Rodney stumbled to his feet, looking for his clothes. To hell with showering - the other scientists smelled mostly like yaks, so he'd just blend right in for once. "I'll radio you tonight, all right? See if you're free?" Because that was a *date*, or something like it, if Rodney could finagle it.

"You do that," Carson nodded. "And barring some emergency, I'll be there. You can count on it." He was hopping himself into some pants while trying to pull on a top and reach for a sock at the same time.

Rodney went for underwear, first, then socks and a t-shirt that would go on under his shirt, and he was going to end up wearing the same clothes he'd worn the day before, and it *really* didn't matter.  
Because for once he'd be going in to the lab with a smile on his face and the faint hope that maybe Siberia wasn't so bad after all.

* * *

Theoretically he should be up and training, or conducting security checks, or a hundred and one other things a good Imperial should be doing.

He shouldn't actually be lying on his couch, pretty much unable to move and counting up whether he could last out so he could take his painkillers just before the fights that would be due that day and be able to 'perform'.

John screwed his eyes up as he reached out for the alcohol by his side as his shoulder protested. His opponent the previous night had twisted and flipped him using that arm, even if he had taken him down just after.

So, he'd won but it was one of those wins where it was a loss, too. It was a loss because everything hurt and he needed a break.

The only hope he had was that there wouldn't be more than one challenge that night. Or maybe none. Stranger things had happened, right? Surely McKay might have *one* good day where he didn't piss anyone off.

Hah. Yeah, right. He glanced at his watch and groaned. Time for a check in and some excellent acting. If Beckett or McKay actually did need his help, right now they might have to wait an hour for him to get there. He had no authority to tell them to behave differently -- that was the problem with a Freeman. He was essentially a soldier for hire and a proxy. Sometimes the proxy duty was fine, like with Idos, and sometimes it was not so good.

Check in. He took a swig of alcohol and grimaced as he tapped the radio. "Morning Dr McKay, just checking you're still breathing."

"Still breathing," Rodney confirmed. "I'm trying to work with something delicate right now, Sheppard, and I'll be in Lab A all day, so..."

"I'll just listen in at the appropriate times. Try not to upset too many people today hmm?" That was as close to a caution as he could manage and it hadn't made any difference in the past.

"It's just Radek and me today. Oh, hey, about your suggestion to Doctor Beckett, I just -- thanks." There was a surprising touch of honest gratefulness in Rodney's voice, and John didn't quite understand why since it was pretty obvious that they already slept together on and off.

"Oh hey, it was nothing..." He shifted, grimacing. It really was nothing and at least he hadn't been collecting more insult challenges. And if he was with Radek, then great. Radek didn't call insult, though John was pretty sure he had better reason to than most. The fabled day off might've arrived at last. "Makes my life easier."

"I guessed that, but I still appreciate it. Have a good day, Sheppard." That sounded almost bright and cheery of Rodney, before he turned his radio off.

Either he'd not drunk enough, or too much. It was a fine line. And pretty nice of Rodney to say thanks.   
John exhaled a moment. He was an idiot. Rodney was the one who was responsible for him spending his entire time in Siberia in extreme pain and yet the guy said thank you and he felt like he'd been given a medal? Those drugs weren't doing any good.

He tapped the radio again, this time with Carson's channel. "Good morning Dr Beckett, just checking that you are, uh, hale and hearty?"

"Good morning, son. Bit harried in here at the moment, but I'm well and good. Did you have a good evening?"

John mentally reviewed the highlights of having someone beat the crap out of him with some sort of weird staff thing. God only knew where that had come from. At least it wasn't the chain guy and there had been only two matches.

"Well as could be expected. I take it from Dr McKay's rather uncharacteristic chattiness this morning that you did have a good evening?"

"Oh, aye." There was a quiet chuckle. "It turned out to be quite a good suggestion, Major Sheppard. Oh! Sometime in the next day or so, do you mind coming by the lab? I'd like to test you for the ATA gene."

"ATA gene?" That would involve him actually *getting* to the lab. "Uh sure. Later. No problem."

Probably not likely though. Hopefully Carson would be distracted by work, or by Rodney or something and he could just carry on lying here waiting for the world to become a more painfree place.

"Good, great. Have a good day, Major." And then Beckett signed off, too. No-one seemed any the wiser to John's state, and that was good.

Lorne had been right, and no wonder he'd been chomping at the bit to get a new assignment.

Somehow he didn't think that Lorne had had to fight the way they did here, old style with the real weapons, and penalties. And sure as hell if he'd been injured there would've been a substitute. Truth was he had no idea why he didn't just stop, call it quits, take infirmary leave...

Only that would mean Rodney having to fight himself, or take his own pay-offs and for some reason he didn't want that. He didn't want to think of Rodney McKay having to do that, or Carson who was a really great guy and, too much alcohol, too much painkiller made for a very swirly head. That was okay. He could just close his eyes and let things slide and loop and go out of focus. He could and he would, because even John Sheppard had enough sometimes.

Hopefully McKay wouldn't pick any fights for a while.

* * *

It had been a busy morning and early afternoon, but then it seemed nobody could be bothered to get ill or hurt themselves that afternoon. Carson had been tinkering with his research and his one ancient artifact that as far as they could tell pretty much just lit up when someone with the gene held onto it.

That was both useless and useful, as it was his short cut route to finding people with enough genetic clout to be useful at operating things. It had lit up like a Christmas tree for General O'Neill, and he got strange colours and lights when he held it, and a prickling sensation as if he should be understanding something and wasn't.

So far, no one in the Russian base had the gene. Well, aside from a few of the markers throwing up in the Kolya line which had made them immensely proud, but not enough to get even a dim light out of the artifact.

Carson had hoped Major Sheppard would turn up as he had asked but by late afternoon he was bored enough to go looking. He tried getting him on the radio channel and then got a little bit concerned when he got no response.

Not doing a challenge, not logged in anywhere on the base, but not answering. 

It was unusual enough and out of character enough to send him up to John's room and try knocking and fumbling with his medical override key. The knocking got him a bleary noise, so he did use his medical over-ride key. John sounded groggy or out of focus, and either were a cause for concern. Calling John's name didn't hurry things on, so he barged in with little hesitance.

"Wassat?" John waved a hand up over the edge of the sofa. Carson could see his bare feet at the end of the sofa.

"Major Sheppard...? You haven't been answering your radio and..." He stopped a moment seeing a nearly empty bottle of vodka. "Bloody hell man, are you drunk?" That shocked him more than he would've believed.

"Yeah? And painkillers," he answered, trying to sit up, struggling to do it. His coordination looked all wrong. "Almost lost the last fight last night."

Oh. Oh, well. The idiot had most likely mixed alcohol and painkillers which was just downright dangerous. Now wait, he didn’t remember there being many times that any of the Fights produced visits to the Infirmary. Still, he was a doctor and he could at least make sure the Major wasn't being a macho idiot about things.

"Well, alcohol and painkillers are not to be mixed John. Let's take a look at you. What are you taking the medication for? Your shoulder?" It was often the shoulder - overzealous sparring.

"Yeah. He, he flipped me? Yeah. Bam, almost lost. He had a stick." John struggled to sit up, and managed it finally. It was then that Carson could see the bruising that started low on his neck.

"A stick?" He heard himself repeat that and then he had a sudden prickling feeling he got sometimes when a patient came in and things were a lot worse than he first thought. "John, there's some bruising there. I think I need you to take off your shirt so I can look at it."

John smelt of alcohol, but not that much, not as much as Carson thought and there was something disturbing about the way he was responding.

Sluggish movements, somewhat dilated eyes... "Sure. I owed a Proxy a few nights? Night before last. Guy was weird, he had a... kink." John pulled the thick turtleneck over his head, and he was still struggling to get it off over his head and face when Carson started to look at the bruising on his torso.

He stared for way too long before, leaning in to help. "....a Proxy? What do you mean a kink?"

He'd heard the expression black and blue but he hadn't seen anyone who was the definition of that expression before. John was a rainbow of bruises, mixtures of faded greengold with the deep livid black blue and purples.

"Proxy means the, the... other fighter? Gets to claim a small service if I lose. If I lose and I don't proxy, we'll never get out of here because McKay won't be able to focus." John lounged back, watching Carson blearily. He looked like he'd been beaten senseless.

And probably had been. He hesitated. "Have you had anything to eat John?" He could give him a shot of something but it was better if there was food in the system. "And I think you need a nice strong coffee before I take a look at the rest of you. I think you should've been in the Infirmary."

"Yeah? I was trying to keep it low key. Don't remember having breakfast." And it was way past breakfast time. Carson could start there, with some bread and milk, and get John towards something he could work with after that.

"Okay then. I'll get you something. Why don't you tell me about this proxy?" None of this was sounding particularly good and he was angry at himself that he hadn't seen this before as it had been going on so long. But he hadn't actually *seen* Sheppard for weeks just heard his voice over the radio.

He went over to the kitchen area, more basic than his and Rodney's, but not hard to work out. Coffee machine on, Some slightly stale bread in the toaster. 

"The one with the breathing fetish? Or in general?" John's voice still sounded distressingly out of focus, hazy.

"Breathe-" Carson took a deep breath. "Let’s start in general? How long things have been this bad? What... you mean by Rodney not being able to finish if he Proxies?"

Making toast and coffee should not be this hard.

"If he doesn't. If the person challenging doesn't claim proxy, then McKay owes the, the service to the claimant. Proxy means I can do it." He heard a quiet thud, and that was hopefully John laying back down.

"And these proxies are ...sexual things? What was the breathing thing?" Carson prodded at it, much as he would at the edge of a wound. He felt like he'd stepped into the dark ages. The world didn't do this anymore!

Except in the Russian Empire it seemed.

"Uh, payment for, for, major insult, questioning of credentials. I lost a fight a couple weeks ago, minor insult? Proxied, so I sucked the other imperial off as payment. Actually, pretty good night. He's off-world right now."

"Oh right, right. " There was the coffee, and the toast and he took them both over. "Here you need to drink this. And eat this, then I can give you something better than the painkillers. Have you taken many today?"

Carson sat so he could support the battered Imperial, who looked even more dishevelled than normal.

"Three." John reached for the coffee, and Carson desperately hoped that he didn't try to throw it up on him.

"Here, don't spill it. That's it." Carson perched himself on the edge. "That's not too many. You could've taken more."

In fact there they were in front of him on the low table, in a neat pile. What on earth was John doing? Hoarding them? Oh. Oh, that was exactly what he was doing.

"Let me guess, you were saving them up for later. Eat your toast John."

"Okay." He'd drank about half the cup of coffee, and he wrapped his fingers around the toast like his senses were skewed. So, he was injured, and hoarding pills...

And obviously completely out of his head. "John, why didn't you say anything? About this?" Carson asked as he watched him eat and drink.

"Can't take time off, or Rodney'll have to fight for himself. Or forfeit." He chewed slowly, and he kept the toast up by his mouth as he chewed.

And admittedly Rodney fighting for himself was frankly terrifying, when he looked at how John had been getting on. "You should've said something. Spoken to Rodney. I'm sure he doesn't know what has been happening. I didn't know, and I wish I did John. You need more than painkillers and vodka which is a very stupid combination I might add."

"They don't just spar here. It's real fights." John ate another slow mouthful of toast. "With chains, and sticks. Even hand to hand is dirty."

"I'm beginning to realise that from the state of you." What he could see at least. "Stitches as well. I'm a little worried that you might have broken bones. Do they test you for that afterwards?"

Someone had to be giving him the stitches and painkillers.

"No. Idos took corpsman training, so he's pretty handy." Idos, Idos. He'd tested an Idos -- one of the members of Kolya House, the fair-haired one with the easy demeanor. Hopefully he hadn't been taking his services out of John in trade. "Glad you kept McKay in."

"I bet you are laddie," he said. Idos had been one of the ones with a few gene markers, that's why he remembered him. "Well, I'm here now and I think I might need to get you to the Infirmary and run a scanner over you. Not to be insulting, but it looks like something chewed on you and spat you out. You won't be fighting for a few days, that’s for sure."

"Then you better keep McKay wrapped up in duct-tape?" John suggested hazily, sitting up again so he could try to start getting to his feet. Carson was going to have to drag him there.

Well that was a thought. Before yesterday he would've been furious with Rodney for being the source of this sort of pain in someone else, but now... now he knew Rodney wasn't the type of person to do this deliberately. Out of ignorance, yes and he was still angry at him, but in the sort of way that was going to hold in check until he had spoken to him. "If I have to. But first, I want you in the Infirmary. I can call a stretcher or do you think you can walk?"

"I'd rather walk." Carson would try and oblige him, then. John got himself to his feet, reaching for his turtle-neck again. "Help me out?"

"I don't think you'll be getting there any other way son," he said helping him dress, and then getting him to slip an arm over his shoulder. He looked so tired and Carson just felt a protective surge that he hadn't been expecting. "Okay then... ready?"

"Ready." It was easy for Carson to get John's arm over his shoulder, to get John pulled entirely to his feet. He'd stop by the door to get a heavy jacket on John, and then he’d radio Rodney to tell him to behave himself, and the rest...

The rest could be sorted out later.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

"Hey, can you hand me the uh, containment field?" 

It was probably a scary thing to hear for most people, but Rodney thought of phrases like that as part of the job. Building a generator wasn't *easy* work, but it was easier when he was in an unshakable good mood.

"If I was having magnetic fingers perhaps yes," Zelenka replied dryly. "But I do not so I will give you the module parts for it instead." He brought some odd pieces across. "They are better now. I have been making smoother and now it will sit in the slot properly."

Zelenka was one of those rare people who, once he realised that Rodney never actually invoked a challenge for himself snarked at him with the same sort of exciting ferocity he used himself. It made things spark off of each other and pushed Rodney's thoughts in ways he hadn't anticipated.

"You are being more hap- happier today Rodney. No challenges. This is a good thing."

"Hmn? Yes, yes, well. I had a relaxing evening and it *is* just us here." Not that that mattered much. The day before had proved harrowing for challenges, just doing simple things like getting food and going to take a piss.

"Taking a break is good. I have noticed you have been taking very few of them," Radek said and then picked up a tiny part with tweezers and examined it. "Equations for the naquadah are sound but I noticed a, uh, lessening of efficiency in output. If superconductor there would not flow be better?"

Rodney stared at what they'd built so far, reaching back into his memory for what he could pull up. He hadn’t actually ever thought of a superconductor anywhere in the equation, because it was impossible to tell if it would *work* with the naqadah or not. "If I get you tapes on how to speak English, could I convince you to defect?"

Zelenka just looked at him and shrugged. "House Kolya has been very good to me," he said almost mechanically. "Bought me when I was young and the Czech Empire was a warzone. "

He didn't say no, though. "My English will get better for practise. With you."

"Yeah, you'll learn all sorts of words from me," Rodney snorted, staring down at what he had. "The only reason I'm reluctant to play with putting a superconductor in here is because I'm not sure how it would affect the Naqadah."

"Separate chamber yes? Self cooling to right temperature for conductor. Not in naqadah field, outside containment but interface. Interface then less power loss and more...uh....efficiency." Zelenka grimaced. "Not many language tapes tell words for advanced physics. However, I can ask my way to the Imperial Embassy perfectly."

"Whose Imperial Embassy?" Rodney glanced over at him again, and yes, it would work, maybe, but not quite... "Hold on, hold on, I'm missing something. Here. Let's stop for a moment and run a simulation?"

"Simulation would be good, yes." Radek nodded. "There are factors that could affect success of such a thing. Is an idea though."

He slotted the small chip into place very carefully. "There."

"It's a good idea," Rodney told him. It was true, a *great* idea, and Rodney was willing to say as much when Radek offered an idea. "So, I'll grab the laptop and we'll--"

There was a crackle from his radio. "Dr McKay." That was Carson, and he didn't sound at all happy. "Rodney, can you hear me? I need you to come to the Infirmary immediately."

"Uh, little busy here, Carson. What's going on?" Rodney leaned back from the generator, reaching for the laptop so he could hand it off to Zelenka.

"I need to talk to you immediately," Carson said and he didn't sound like the same man who he had kissed goodbye that morning. "Let’s just say certain things have come to light today and this is urgent."

Zelenka was looking at him quizzically.

Holy shit. Certain things have come to light? That wasn't a phrase that ever meant good things. Ever. There were worlds of people whose lives had been unraveled with that phrase. Politically careers had been ended with those words!

Sex lives, too. "Okay, uh, just give me a few minutes..." He cut his eyes over to Zelenka, watching the other man leaning forwards in his chair.

"Go, go... I will run the simulation and then I will eat and not miss dinner as I have lunch," Radek nodded to him. "Must be important."

"Yeah, I -- look, I'll be back as soon as, as soon as whatever. Don't try to put power through anything, and..." And Zelenka wasn't *stupid* and he wouldn't do that, but Rodney suddenly felt flustered while he got to his feet and reached for his coat.

"Yes, yes and blow self and possibly several cubic miles into subatomic particles," Zelenka said. "I know, I understand. Better than you sometimes." He gave a half smile at that.

"Bullshit." Rodney smirked it, and pulled the hood of his coat on before he stepped out into the hallway. There were three more labs in the building, a bathroom, and a door. And then, desperately empty space until the next building. 

It was a ridiculously long way in the freezing cold to where the Infirmary section was, which only went to prove if anyone was ill here, they would have pneumonia or hypothermia just getting to a doctor.

He was relieved by the time he got to the other building, as he'd started to lose sensation in his fingers and that was worrying.

He *needed* his fingers, or they *would* get blown to death if he fumbled something or had to rely on someone else's hands, or...

New gloves. Mittens, maybe. He needed mittens. That self-warmed or maybe used a 9-volt battery. Something like that would take the edge off the cold when he was out.

It wasn't hard to find Carson when he got in there; his voice proved a bit of a beacon. But when he turned and saw Rodney, his expression changed and was almost...stern. Angry. Something he wasn't sure he had seen before. 

"Rodney...come in here a moment, I want a private chat with you," he said gesturing to one of the examining rooms.

Rodney unzipped his coat, walking warily towards Carson. Angry wasn't good, no, and he started into the examining room while he asked, "What's the problem? You said it was urgent..."

"It is urgent, and unfortunately for you, I've had a good couple of hours to get a wee bit angry about this," Carson replied shutting the door behind them. "It's about John."

John. First name basis, okay, that was a little strange, but Rodney was going to see where Carson was going with it. "What about him?"

"That's just it. What about him... We've been here over a month now and John has been fighting your Challenges every day, yes?" Carson half asked, half stated.

"Yes." He answered it a little impatiently because, well *yes* John had been fighting his challenges, that was what the guy did. That was why money came out of his and Carson's pay. Well, his.

"Rodney, he's been actually *fighting* them, do you understand? Over here they still do the old form of Challenge fights," Carson said intently "Not like back at the SGC and Lorne."

"The old form? What..." Old form, like gladiator movies and the big show fights for challenges that were broadcast on tv sort of fights? "He's been doing that for a *month* like that? How is he?"

"Why don't you come and take a look?" Carson said. "I wanted to test him for the ATA gene, and he didn't respond to a radio hail so I went to his quarters and..." Carson led the way into another room, lowering his voice out of habit. "He was semi-conscious. I swear, I don't know how he has been doing anything."

John was in one of the beds, his hair still tousled like Rodney remembered and apparently asleep. At least, he didn't move when Carson twitched back the covers to expose his body.

"Shit." 

Every spot of his body was covered in bruises, welts, bizarrely stitched cuts that were broken every once in a while by a snatch of un-harmed skin. Some of them still looked fresh and swollen, and *that* was what was happening to John when Rodney was Challenged? *Lorne* never looked like that!

"Precisely," Carson said. "Rodney, I'm deadly serious about this. You've got to take time out so John can rest and really really try not to upset anyone. Not just for his sake...though that should be pretty obvious, but for your sake too. He's being doing the fights and taking Proxy as well - taking what would come to you when he loses. And I have to tell you, I can't fault his reasoning for keeping going. I don't think you could fight or take the consequences of a loss."

"Jesus." Rodney reached out a little, almost touching John but not quite because it all looked too painful for Rodney. That was *his* fault, his doing, except... He had no idea how *not* to piss people off. How was he supposed to not have challenge called against him? And he couldn't, he just couldn't because Sheppard was in no shape to fight anyone which meant that Rodney would've been fighting and that...

Not a good idea.

Carson seemed to settle down a little seeing his reaction. "I'm sorry I came on a little strong Rodney, I'm just worried -- for you, for John. For all of us actually. I was thinking that perhaps you could come down with some sort of mild illness? Made-up, of course, or I could be concerned about something and just...keep you out of the loop for a bit and then you can *try* not to insult people, but I know it would be hard."

"I'm not -- look, I'm not *that* much of an asshole." He snapped it a little, couldn't help it, and what if someone called challenge over *that*? Fuck. Fuck fuck, he was going to be ground into a pulp and it was going to be his own fault for getting them all sent there in the first place.

Rodney turned a little to look at Carson, instead of the battered shape of the man that was supposed to be protecting them. And had, in a way. "If I'm not working, we're not getting out of here any faster, Carson."

"Exactly John's point, but he needs a few days, few days at the least to get back to a point where he can fight. " Carson stepped a bit closer and said in a low voice. "Rodney, some of the things he's done for a Proxy... I, I'd probably have you sedated here for a week. He tells me he's had some sort of training -- I don't really understand it all, but I understand enough to know things like breath control and sex would send you over the edge. Possibly that is what did it for him as well."

Rodney closed his eyes for a moment, scrunched tightly. On one hand, that was true. On the other hand, Carson had just vaguely suggested that he was some kind of blushing recently a virgin, and that just stung. But the closest Rodney had ever gotten to breath control was that crazy Marine in Area 51 who liked to see if he could stick it *all* in Rodney's mouth. "Okay. But I need to work. I'll, I'll just have to keep my mouth shut. Is all. Can't be that hard. If I *take* my lunch with me..."

And pee in a milk jug, well, he'd only have to see Radek and life would be okay. Oh, and the machinist shop people, but none of them had called challenge.

That he knew of.

"You could bring your laptop here? To the Infirmary maybe?" Carson suggested. "Rodney, I don't think we can risk it, not to start with. Besides everyone else takes time off, you haven't taken any yet."

He did seem genuinely concerned and he was distracted a little by a rustle from John's direction.

"I never take time off," Rodney shrugged, twisting around to glance at John. "Look, as long as I keep to the lab with Radek, I should be fine."

John seemed to be waking up a little, and from the smile that drifted over his expression as he cracked open his eyes, he was obviously on some good drugs. He lifted a hand that was attached to a drip and waved it lazily. "Hey guys..."

Rodney waved back slightly, and glanced at Carson. "He's completely drugged to the gills, isn't he?" They needed to get out of there, out of Russia. Because he could maybe manage to behave for a week or two, and by behave Rodney meant not say a word to anyone at all, but eventually he'd say something and butt heads with someone.

"Well it was that or watch him try to get by on vodka and codeine which is bloody dangerous," Carson replied. "John you should be sleeping."

"Nah, I should be getting up. Fights'll be starting soon." He gave an amused snort. "They are so going to kick my ass tonight." Rather incredibly he started making moves to peel back the covers.

"John, you're not going anywhere," Carson instructed sternly.

"And there aren't going to *be* any fights tonight," Rodney agreed, taking a step towards John to help push him back own onto the bed if he had to. "So just rest."

"No fights?" John looked comically amazed. "Always.. fights. I have my hundred star...I've never know someone with a hundred star who wasn't a Fighter."

"No lad, neither have I..." Carson replied. "Lie down."

"You have nice hands," John drawled at Rodney even as he lay back.

"You've fought a hundred fights?" Well, given that Rodney averaged three or more a day, and they'd been there for over a month... Rodney put a hand on John's shoulder, and didn't squeeze because the bruise that spread out from his neck was sickening. "Look, I'm going to just pretend I'm mute for a while. No more fights."

"Nah, hundred points. Hundred points as more serious fights worth more," John replied. "Mute would be a shame. I like your voice. It's all I know about you, but it sounds nice." He smiled again and leaned into the hand.

Carson was raising his eyebrows a little. "I think he likes you."

Great. Fantastic. The guy was getting himself beat up for Rodney and he *liked* him? "I don't want to see the shit getting beat out of you, John. Okay? No matter how much you like me. So just... Rest here, okay? There aren't going to be any fights."

"Oh, hey okay then," John replied airily and his eyes started to droop again as Carson injected something into his IV.

"Goodnight John," Carson murmured and they both heard him mumble "'night" before he went out again.

"If I don't keep him out, I think he'd be up and trying to do...something," Carson replied with a faint sigh.

"Doesn't surprise me." Rodney patted John's shoulder, and started to fidget the bedding up onto his shoulder. "Why didn't he *say* anything?"

"Near as I could get out of him? Because we're Free, he's an Imperial and it’s his duty and if he didn't there isn't anyone to do it for him," Carson said. "That might not be all of the reason but he wasn't making a lot of sense then. He was talking about some people he wasn't there for and got a bit upset about it."

Of course they ended up with the Imperial whose baggage didn't all have zippers. Rodney closed his eyes, and decided to leave John's bedding alone now that he was covered. "I just won't be challenged."

Carson looked at him. "But what if you are?" he asked softly. "It's times like this I really wish I was my father's son."

"Yeah, but then your ears would be all funny." Rodney reached out and tapped one to lighten the mood a little before he shrugged. "I'll just forfeit. If I lose, I'll end up paying the penalty anyway -- there's no point in getting the shit beaten out of me first."

"Rodney..." Carson was looking at him with a worried expression. "Please...Look, let's go have a good evening hmm? Just the two of us?"

Out of harm's way was the implicit message.

Radek was going to run the simulation, and he'd probably appreciate the time to himself. "Okay. Sure. Let me radio Radek and tell him I won't be coming back until tomorrow."

"All right," Carson replied, jotting a couple of notes on John's chart. "I'll just finish up and I'll come up with you."

As if he couldn't be trusted on his own.

Which, maybe he couldn't. Rodney wasn't sure. He didn't like that his protector had been getting his ass beaten on a regular basis because Rodney couldn't control his own temper. "Fine. I'll just..." he gestured to the radio and wandered towards a corner of the room before he tapped it to life.

"Doctor Zelenka?"

"Yes... Doctor McKay." He could imagine the Czech scientist fiddling with his radio. "I am here."

"Great. I'm not going to be back. Tonight, I mean. Heading back. I'm feeling a little under the weather so I might be a little late starting off tomorrow. I think I'm coming down with a cold." If he started late, the hallways would be emptier by the time he got there...

"I will see you then," Zelenka replied. "Simulation is interesting. You will be better for coming with rest behind you yes?"

"I... am not actually sure what you just said, but the intent sounded right, so... I guess. Yes." Better for coming with rest behind him? "Is the simulation interesting bad or interesting good?"

"Both," Zelenka said sounding amused. "It does not work, but it does not work in an impossible way. Impossible means something unknown. Unknown means a new discovery waiting yes? Something throwing a new shadow for us to trace back." Zelenka did sound more than a little enthused as he was making less sense than normal.

"Great. Email me the data feed in case I can't come in tomorrow." He made sure to sound extra miserable when he said it, and added a hasty, "Have a good night."

"I will. Be well Rodney," Zelenka said and signed off, and it made him itch to know what he had discovered when he'd been down here.

He'd wait. He could check it on his laptop later. It was still early for him, but Carson looked strained and oddly guilty. There was a good chance that he was holding himself responsible, somehow. Rodney turned his radio off, and took it off of his ear before he turned around.

This wasn't the happy prelude to an evening that he had been anticipating. He was half expecting Carson to change his mind about being with him, but he had been the one that had suggested being together.

"You ready Rodney?" Carson asked.

"Ready." Ready to be miserable and to probably be chewed out again, yeah, he was ready. It was actually pretty par for the course of his relationships.

They didn't talk much on the trip back, if only because there was actually a flurry of snow and it was genuinely freezing getting across the compound. Carson had moved in close to steady him and hadn't moved away even inside as they made their way up to his apartment. Much to his surprise, Carson did automatically usher him to his apartment and gesture for him to go in.

"I might just have to have a little of the vodka we didn't get to last night," Carson said. "Are you okay Rodney?"

"A little shocked that he'd actually do that. Lorne..." Rodney struggled with the zipper of his coat, and he pressed his back against Carson's front door. "Would have thrown me to the wolves."

"Possibly," Carson acknowledged. "But it was a different situation, and you weren't to know." He pulled off his thick coat and tossed it on the side. "I feel stupid that I didn't notice anything before. It's my *job* to notice this sort of thing."

"Except for the fact that he's been John Sheppard the disembodied voice for the last month. Clearly you should have been able to *hear* that he was trying to martyr himself for the sake of my ego." Stupid zipper, stuck again, stupid Russian-made coat, stupid Imperials. Rodney jerked on the zipper, and nipped a finger on the other hand, but at least he was *out* of it.

"It could've easily been a challenge on me Rodney, it's only a matter of time," Carson said. "If I don't save the right person and someone thinks that I should've done better it won't be a minor challenge, it will be a full on bladed weapons duel with death an acceptable win. That scares the willies out of me, I can tell you."

"You could choose to forfeit and pay the fine instead," Rodney pointed out. "We need to stress to John that that is a perfectly acceptable thing to do." He dropped his coat on top of Carson's. One day, he'd be back in a land where the apartments had closets.

"I got the impression that here? You don't get to dictate which penalty to pay," Carson said morosely. "The wronged party does."

"Oh." Well, Fuck. Rodney wandered towards Carson, trying to not look as tense as he felt. "How bad could it be?"

"Well from what John said, the times he lost on a minor insult, the proxy price was usually a blowjob. Though he managed to trade chocolate once or twice," Carson replied. "I'm worried, Rodney, for you.”

"I'll be fine. If I -- as long as I concentrate on behaving, I'll be fine. Even if I slip up, it's not like I haven't had bad casual sex before." And maybe he was saying it to comfort himself as much as Carson, because it sounded so much... easier when he said it aloud than when he actually thought about it.

"Yes well, I didn't much like the thought of someone tying you up and then choking you to get their jollies thank you very much," Carson said. "I didn't much like the idea for John and I haven't even slept with him."

"... that could be a *penalty* for a minor insult?" Rodney stared at Carson a little, and then reached for the booze to pour it for both of them. They were definitely going to need it.

"Well, apparently questioning competence in a way that could potentially affect a career can be upgraded to a Major insult. Non-bladed weapons," Carson said. "I went off and got a code of conduct book very quickly. To be frank Rodney, it scared me to death. I feel like we're living in a live minefield." He took his drink gratefully. "And I don't like the fact that apparently the only way out is to send someone else out in front to have the bombs blow them up first."

Proxies. Rodney sipped and then decided to just drain his drink. Just one. He wanted to be sober, wanted to think things over, but he also wanted to ease things a little. "Fantastic. The only way out is for me to have worked on the generators with them until they're done and finished and we all get to go back home."

"Which is why I can see why John did what he did because I expect he knew we would do ...what we are doing now." Carson gulped it back. "I don't even like vodka that much. He wanted to give you a run at getting this done quickly, and you have been."

"I've been here a month and we have a quarter of a generator." Rodney frowned. Half the trouble was the machinist's shop -- they wouldn't let him do it himself and they kept fucking up on his *very* exacting specs. A millimeter off here and there mattered with a generator like that!

"Well, we're getting there then," Carson sighed and then sat down heavily. "I'm really sorry if I came over a little heavy handed. I get like that sometimes when there are medical things involved, and when I get worried."

"I probably had it coming." He took his time, but he did thump down beside Carson on the bed, unable to suppress the frustrated, tired sound he made.

Carson's hand reached up to stroke at his neck. "I had this really nice evening planned for us both. There was going to be food, and then maybe having a shower together as we didn't manage it this morning, and then probably a lot of sex. But, we can just...sit and talk if you want."

"How very traumatised teenage girl of us." Rodney pressed into Carson's hand, and then twisted to face him. "Food and a shower will make us both feel better."

Carson nodded. "Aye, I think it will." He didn't take offense at that, he at least seem to realise it was just Rodney being Rodney. "Shower first or second?"

Rodney hesitated for a moment, and then levered himself up and offered Carson a hand. "Shower first. It might untense you a little..."

"That is true," Carson replied taking that hand gratefully. "It's best to be relaxed when we eat."

It was a bit strange that Carson wasn't drawing away from him, even if he had seemed angry and upset about the whole thing at the start.

Most people held him completely responsible for everything that had gone wrong. Ever. Like the SGC had, and that was a whole lot more than one person. He pulled, helped Carson to his feet, and maybe, just maybe, he was grinning like a madman. Okay, he was going to have to try hard to behave himself. He could get through life for a few days without pissing anyone off.

After all how hard could it be?

* * *

Best laid plans of mice and men... Didn't usually involve staff meetings.

It was possible that he could have made it through two or three weeks without slipping up, except the supervising officer wanted a staff meeting to go over what had been accomplished lately. So Rodney took a chair to the back and tried to pretend that he was mute.

The problem was that they were so *stupid* that was very difficult indeed, and none of them seemed to have a good opinion of Radek so every comment he made they wanted to query and check.

"Or main delay has been machinist imprecision," Radek was explaining. "They are not seeing that a milimetre is important. It is good enough for normal work but not for this. Our instructions have been precise, our items back less so."

"Why is the precision so necessary?" The head of the research department queried. "Dr McKay? I would know if these delays are strictly necessary?"

Two weeks of time working *solely* with Radek had eroded Rodney's memory to the point that he didn't recognise half of their names anymore. There was Lieutenant Vorshanova, the creepy one. The Scary General, and uh... Petrenko? Pershin, the head of it all. The rest didn't matter much. 

"Because if they are not precise, we'll have radiation leaks and power loss. I don't know about you, but I'm against poisoning myself with radiation."

Dr Pershin gave him a sharp look. "Even so, there has not been a lot of progress," he said.

"Then sir, please would you been talking to the machinists? For one part Dr McKay and myself had to return more than three times," Radek said. "This can be checked. But now? Now we have a functioning containment field. This is a big step forward."

"I was anticipating more progress at this point," Dr Pershin replied glancing at the general, observing. "We were under the impression you specialised in quick fixes Dr McKay."

"Yes. I do. But this is not something that needs to be *fixed*. This isn't a..." Rodney gestured a little. "A plug in a leaky dyke. Also, Doctor Zelenka has suggested some interesting ways to work a super conductor in, and I think it's going to work. So there's your raised power output. We've uploaded all the data outputs onto the internal server."

"Yes yes," Dr Meylev said dismissively. "Which shows you should've been looking at our suggestions from the outset. When will there be a functioning generator?"

"We are doing well," Radek said calmly. "Good machining will make a prototype in...four more weeks? Yes?" He looked to Rodney to confirm his estimate.

While Rodney liked to underestimate, he nodded to that. "Four weeks if we can get the machinist shop to match the specs, yes."

"Four weeks? But surely it could be done sooner?" Dr Petrenko said, frowning. "I have a series of tests waiting on the energy of generator. Four weeks is intolerably long!"

"I agree," Meylev said. "Parts can be made swiftly. I believe there is not sufficient application to the problem at hand."

"Hey, if we can get all the parts machined correctly, and quickly? And *correctly*, we could be wrapped up in under that time frame. It's just that we've had delays." And there were only *two* of them working on it, but Rodney wasn't going to say that because he couldn't stand the others. 

"You may check the returns to the machinist if you wish," Radek said with calm. "It will show discrepancies to original request from Dr McKay."

It was nice to have someone on his side for a change but it seemed that Meylev as usual was spoiling for a fight. "Yes well, it is evident that Dr McKay is not as committed to this venture as some of us are," he said.

"No, Dr. McKay is *very* committed to this venture. You see, when I get this finished and you're all happy with your new technology, I get to go *home*. So I want this to work as *quickly* as possible. I haven't taken a single day off since I got here." He said it all with a smile, and it was hard to not snap and snarl.

He could tell they were a little perplexed by his apparent new attitude, not knowing exactly how to deal with it. 

"Do you imply that the Russian Empire is inferior or inhospitable?" Lieutenant Vorshanova said abruptly. "On behalf of my country, I find that implication insulting. I call Challenge. I shall present my Challenge to your champion."

"I forfeit," Rodney deadpanned. "I wasn't implying that. I meant that I miss my home. There's a huge difference between 'I hate this place' and 'I miss Nevada.'"

Lieutenant Vorshanova hesitated. "You forfeit? But what of your champion? Major Sheppard?"

Radek cleared his throat. "A misunderstanding yes? At most a minor insult." There were murmurs of agreement from around the table as various scientist looked a little shocked.

"I have some really good chocolate I brought overseas with me, and I honestly didn't mean to insult you." He deserved an acting award for that. But it was the only way he was going to get out of it.

Vorshanova looked like he'd won a Buy-out lottery. "No, no...a minor service would be acceptable," he said. "As your champion appears unavailable. We will discuss after the meeting."

Minor service. Well, fine. Fine. Rodney clenched his jaw, and nodded curtly, before he looked at everyone else there. "So. Four weeks."

"Four weeks will be fine Dr McKay," General Kolya said effectively silencing the room. "I will personally speak to the machinist department and emphasise the importance of precision work."

Radek nodded. "Yes, yes a good thing," he said agreeing.

"Thank you, sir." He glanced at the General, and at least he hadn’t crossed him. That was something.

"Good. Dr Pershin, I also want to hear a report of what the other scientist have been doing in this interim if you may. Dr McKay, you are excused to finalise your personal affairs with Lieutenant Varshanova."

"Fantastic." He probably didn't bathe. Rodney shifted off of the stool, and headed for the door. He was going to behave. It would've been worse. It could've been worse.

If he kept telling himself that he might believe it, because Varshanova was beaming happily as he followed him out of a room and he'd been the one that freaked him out.

"Well Dr McKay, I did not know I would get your personal attention," the Russian Imperial said as he closed in behind him. "Here , this is an empty room. Let us discuss your forfeit."

Personal attention. Rodney grimaced as he turned around and found himself too close to face to face with the man. "Sure, why not?" It was still close enough to the meeting room that if something went bad, they'd hear him. 

Rodney stepped in, knowing Varshanova would follow.

He closed the door behind them both, and smiled. "I had heard that your Major Sheppard had not been fighting as well recently. So. Let me state my terms. I will accept a blow-job as your forfeit as it has been considered as a minor misunderstanding."

And if he argued, he was fucked. Rodney nodded. "Your terms are fine with me." He didn't comment on Sheppard, wasn't going to rise to that bait.

If possible his smile got even broader. "Here and now, or would you like to come to my quarters later?" he asked.

"You know what? Here and now is great. Is it good for you?" He tossed that off flippantly, and took a step backwards as if he were about to kneel down.

If he was calling his bluff, then it didn't work because if anything the man perked up even more. "Oh yes. Yes, I am very fine with that. Please, go ahead."

"All right." It wasn't a bluff, because he'd rather do it there then in the man's apartment. He didn't even want to know where the officer lived. "Any specific preferences?" He knelt down, tentatively, hands going to the bottom of the man's tunic so he could unbutton the bottom. Not a uniform that was friendly for a quickie.

"No teeth," Vashanova said with a smirk. "I have thought about this a great deal. I am sure someone who talks as much as you do will be...good."

Creepy, creepy bastard. Of course he'd thought about it a great deal. "We'll see." Rodney reached up beneath the edge of the tunic, searching casually with his hands for the buttons to get Vashanova's slacks open. He'd sucked Carson off the night before, slow and lazy on the sofa after dessert.

Of course, Carson had insisted on returning the favour and in Carson's world, that meant kissing him for an age before finally getting around to business. If he could just imagine it was him, imagine it wasn't the Russian accent but something softer. Someone who worried about him even after that one night together. Well, consciously together.

Somewhere his fingers had done it automatically. Unbuttoned, gotten the Imperial's cock out while he was lost in thought. 

That was going to be how he did it. He was just going to phase out and pretend it was Carson, which made it easier to lean forwards and slowly lick the head of the Imperial's cock.

He didn't taste like Carson, and he had to try and call that memory to him. His musky scent, clean and something wholesome about it. Carson would say something funny, not the Russian equivalent of talking dirty that the Imperial was doing right now that he was trying to block out.

He'd say something funny, and Rodney would know that he was enjoying it, and that it was more than just a little bit of pleasure. He'd talk about those toasted sandwiches, ask him if he wanted him to put the sandwich maker on to recapture the mood, or so he could have a midway snack. Something that would make him smile and want him make want what he was doing to be good.

He just wanted to work the debt off, quick, and be done with it. Get back to the meeting or whatever else. It was only 9am, and he was on his knees sucking off an Imperial. He wasn't going to make it through the day. Just wasn't. He closed his eyes tight, fingers clutching at the man's hips as he started to actually suck, trying to get as much of it into his mouth as possible.

He wasn't even giving it his full attention and the guy was making pleased noises. He wished that Carson hadn't been so right about his ability not to offend people because he'd managed about an hour and then it failed. Admittedly it had been a very weak insult and it warranted this.

He wondered how many times John had done this?

Probably less often than Rodney was going to end up doing it. Maybe he could just go a couple of days and then... Well, no, because if he stopped trying to behave himself then they'd be in the same trouble they were in before with John beaten to hell. He probably needed at least a week off.

And Rodney needed the Russian imperial to just get off. He pulled back with a messy-sounding slurp, and then started to work the man's cock back into his mouth again, hoping that a little excitement would finish him off quicker.

Wouldn't be long. Maybe he could follow Carson's advice because he really wasn't okay with this. Not okay at all, and maybe a few days pretending to be sick wouldn't be so bad if Zelenka could "visit". They wouldn’t fall too much behind and Zelenka would understand.

Hmm. From the sounds of it, Vashanova was finally getting to climax and...ugh, there it was.

Right in his mouth with *no* warning at all -- or if there had been one, it was in Russian, which didn't do Rodney any good -- and he pulled back, swallowing and wiping the dribble from his mouth. That wasn't very fun, no, and the best part, the worst part, was that he was half hard.

"Good. Good, da..." Vashanova nodded and leant back on the nearest table. "You are good. It seems a shame to not...enjoy such a thing. I have heard that sometimes things come from such things?"

Sure, when the other person doesn't taste like underwear smells. Rodney adjusted himself, before he got to his feet, trying to not look at the man. "I suppose that it does sometimes. If it's all right, I'm going to see if the meeting has broken up or... what."

If the Imperial looked disappointed he couldn't bring himself to care. "Yes. Of course. You should…visit a bathroom first. Clean up."

And that was it. Like a business transaction it was over.

Rodney wiped at his mouth again, and chuckled a little. "Yeah. Thanks." He left without adding anything else, because it *was* a business transaction. He'd forfeited, and just like that, the debt was settled. He stepped out into the hallway, and turned to head down towards the bathroom.

He could see some of the other scientists looking at him as they were exiting the room and then he heard Radek calling him "Dr McKay? ....Rodney? Wait, I come to you..."

He wasn't waiting. He really needed to wash his face off, so Rodney pushed the door open, and stretched moved to stand in front of the mirror that was against the wall behind the sinks.

Radek came in after him anyway and stopped looking at him. "We should talk. Now. " He waved at the sinks. "Clean. I have said we will be meeting privately. Did not say where. We will go to your quarters yes?"

"Why should we talk?" Rodney didn't look at himself, just turned on the tap and rinsed his hands before he drew a cupful up to his mouth to rinse.

"About this. About what happened. How to make this not happen now they know you are without protector." Zelenka sounded serious. "You think I have not had experience? Russian Houses different to your Houses. Already you turn away from me from just this once."

Rodney spit the water back into the sink, and then he splashed his face. "I need a couple of hours to shake this off. Humiliation isn't my thing."

"I know. I am coming with you," Zelenka insisted. "We will find a way." He moved over closer to him looking at him in the mirror. "This is not for you Rodney. You are too...too intelligent."

"I'm wood-level as a personal. Was. If there was an anti level, I would have gotten it. Sex, fine, but that part where you detach yourself? Can't sublimate myself that way. But hey, I'm trying hard to behave. One challenge in a whole staff meeting? That's not bad."

"It should not have been a challenge." Zelenka said. "The General let it happen. He had been watching. Watching your Major. We talk of it in the House. Idos is one of the few to beat your Major, and only after many fights and Idos is Heir to Kolya House. Not just a matter of behaving Rodney. A matter of House politics. You need to know this."

"What's the politics to it?" It felt like he was missing something. Something probably important to Radek and everyone else there, but he was missing it. "I don't get it."

"Not the thing to talk about here. Not in a bathroom," Zelenka replied. "Come, it is complicated and I had hoped it would not involve you or your Dr Beckett, or your Major. But it is, and it will." He moved to usher him out of the bathroom.

"Fine. Let's double back and get our coats." It was quite a walk to get to his apartment, and he hadn't been there in a couple of days. Hopefully he hadn't left anything out that was embarrassing.

Zelenka did not encourage much in the way of significant talk while they were in the halls, or crossing the compound. In fact he waited until they were at Rodney's apartment before he reached into his pocket and put a small device on the table. "There. Now we can talk. Paranoid maybe, but I wish to avoid punishment. That can be unpleasant."

Punishment *was* unpleasant. He'd been beaten a few times in his life, and that was enough for him to have ever experienced. "So what's this... what you were trying to tell me about."

Zelenka sat down. "House Kolya is a complicated House, yes? House of very intelligent people - some more intelligent than others. It is a rich house with strong Imperial ties. For long time though it was out of favour. Other House controlled the stargate but collaborative mission with United States Empire...a washout. Problems, many and then House Kolya gets contract and then Imperials broker deal for DHD and they get you. Naqadah generators and do not need a DHD. Naqadah generators can direct power. Anyway, you know this. What you do not know is that they have a lead, strange information on Ancient ruins and weapons. They want to get there first. They think they could need the new generator to power a weapon. But then they learned of Dr Beckett’s research so they want to find their own ATA gene holder or, they will want to keep him. Soon they will be too impatient and send a team."

"Because they don't have a gene holder yet. Which is why Carson is here testing everyone with a *pulse*." It made stupid sense, really, but Rodney didn't give a shit about Russian politics. "What does that have to do with me?"

"Your major has been protecting you. Now they realise you are vulnerable. They will try and push situations," Radek explained. "Rodney, you are..." He seemed to be grasping for words and settled on, "...brilliant. Not just theoretically but practically. Is a rare gift. We have many brilliant scientists who could not find the right end of a screwdriver. They talk all this hovno of not being fast enough expecting more and it is all fake. No one expected this quick. They will want to keep you. You must stay out of way until your Major can fight. Then, you must call insult on them. You have called no insults yourself, and you have more than enough cause. They question your honour continuously. Your Major has enough of a reputation that most will forfeit."

"That's insane. They don't *get* to keep me. I'm a freeman," Rodney deadpanned as he paced past the otherwise bare kitchen table. "I bought out, paid myself off. No-one but the SGC gets to tell me what to do."

"You think they will do this legally?" Radek said. "Hmm? No. No. This is Siberia, people disappear. I do not want this to happen to you. Your Major has tangled with Idos, if Idos decides that he wants him, your major will be his private pleasure slave within the hour. They have that level of power. General Kolya advises the Imperial Majesty and will do anything to secure the position of the House of his blood in a position of great power. Rules will not come into it. You must make plans of your own to leave here as soon as possible after the generator is finished."

"So we'd just disappear." And the SGC would kick up, oh, no fuss at all, actually. They'd just be counted as missing or war captures, but you needed an actual war for that to happen. Rodney glanced up at the ceiling, and then back down to the device that he assumed was a jammer. "Fantastic. We need to get the generator done."

"Yes. And tell your Major this. He will know how to plan escapes if you need it," Zelenka replied with a sigh. "I am sorry. I hoped my suspicions were wrong. But from today, it would seem they are not. So. We will work here and alone. The generator will be finished perhaps sooner than they think so you can have time to escape before they are aware. If there is room..." Radek hesitated and shrugged. "We shall not get ahead of selves."

"No, hey, if you want help getting out of here, we'd love to have you. Intrigues back home are boring and a hell of a lot more petty, but you just go home angry at the end of the day." Not dead. Well, you didn't go *home* if you were dead, that was against the definition of dead itself. "I'll mention it to Sheppard when he's actually conscious again."

"At least he made them stop and think. And though being noticed by Idos could be bad, can also be good. They will be less likely to just dispose of him," Zelenka said. "We will see. I have been isolated for many years on such projects. I am willing to risk to try something new." He sat up. "Would you like me to leave and return in two hours with equipment?"

"That would be great. Is that *allowed*, or would we be better hunkered down in Lab A?" Now that they were going forwards with it as a plan, and Rodney was aware of how insane the system was, he wanted to be cautious.

"I will talk of how disturbed you were by what happened, how it affects ability to concentrate," Radek gestured. "Yes? Result they want, compromises they make. At moment, generator is key project."

"Right." Right. Radek could tell them how disturbed he was and he'd go and brush his teeth a few times. It was funny how it could be the same act done twice in less than 20 hours, and one was fantastic and the other just left him feeling grimy. "Thanks. Talk it up all you want."

"Will." Radek nodded. "I will go now. Explain things and come back. Keep jammer here, they will assume it is you not me and they cannot ask you to stop so they can invade privacy."

That was, well, nice of Radek, Rodney decided. Of course, they faster they finished, the sooner they could *all* escape, so it wasn't entirely altruistic. That thought made Rodney smile a little as he nodded. "Given the way things go in this place, it wouldn't surprise me. Thanks. Just knock and I'll let you in.”

"I will." Radek nodded, his hair still wild and tousled as ever and he gave him a half smile even as he headed out the door, leaving him to his thoughts.

Rodney closed the door, locked it behind Radek, and then he closed his eyes.

Two hours. He'd pull himself back together in two hours. He wasn't going to radio Carson, because then he *wouldn't* be back to himself in two hours, because Carson would pry and Rodney would snap and they'd still be arguing over it probably when Radek showed up with equipment.

* * *

Carson had noticed it immediately of course, and heard about it not long after he got back, radioing Rodney to come to his apartment, if he wanted to. As they were practically next door, it wasn't a big chore, and neither had the convincing Rodney he needed a little comfort. 

Truth was, Carson wasn't sure if Rodney was going to be weird about sex, but the resulting experience was enough to leave Carson panting as if Rodney felt he had something to prove. Or convince him he wasn't bothered.

But he was. He really was bothered, and Carson was making extra sure to do things differently. "Well...that certainly gave me a work out," he murmured into Rodney’s ear.

"Good." Rodney only sounded a little smug as he shifted closer to Carson, sliding an arm over Carson's shoulders. His dick was still half-hard, pressed against Carson's thigh when Rodney squirmed that little bit closer. "I've wanted to do that all day."

"I would never have guessed," Carson replied. "What brought that on?" As if he couldn't guess.

Rodney pressed his mouth against Carson's bare shoulder. "The coy act doesn't really suit you. How'd you... who told you?"

"One of the technicians, who got it from one of the Imperials, who got it from..." Carson trailed off. "You are okay, right?

"When Radek said he'd talk it up, he meant it. Does the whole *base* know?" Rodney asked, voice tilting a little towards strained.

"Most likely," Carson said apologetically. "I'm sorry Rodney. I should've..." The problem was he wasn't sure what he should've done, or even could've done. "I was worried about you."

"He suggested we should go back to his quarters. That was... no. So, there was a side room, and..." Rodney skirted fingers against Carson's spine. "You know the funny thing? I used to sort of be with a guy like that. Back at Area 51. And it was just like that. It was 'hey, an empty closet, down on your knees.' "

Carson sighed a little. "An Imperial thing, you think?" He hoped not. John didn't strike him like that, but neither had he been too bothered on the surface at least by what he'd had to do.

"I think it's an asshole thing. You never met anyone before you paid off that thought they could have something their way because they *could*?" There was another movement, Rodney nudging a knee against Carson's and then sliding his leg over Carson's. Rodney was a cuddler, without question.

He rather liked that. He was a tactile sort of person. "Oh yes, but not Imperials. I waspretty young when someone last tried on me," Carson admitted. "But paying a forfeit is different to deciding to have sex." Very different. Humiliating.

"Sometimes you decide to have sex because saying yes is easier than saying no." Rodney was quiet for a moment, and then he murmured, "You know, I hadn't realised how fucked up that sounded until I said it aloud."

"I think I know what you mean," Carson said. "I've possibly been guilty of that myself. There was this wee lass who was just a little demanding. It was easier to give in than argue. I felt bad about it."

He was silent for a moment, enjoying the faint huff of Rodney's breath against his skin, and then said, "I don't want you to feel strange about this. Not with me."

"Do I seem like I'm feeling strange about it?" Rodney leaned back a little, looking Carson right in the eye. "I told you. I thought about this all *day*. Kneeling on the floor, planing down the parts in my apartment with Radek, which reminds me. If you go over there for the next couple of weeks? Wear shoes. There's metal shavings everywhere."

"You seem..." Carson stopped and looked up at him, tilted his head to peer at Rodney's face. "You seem fine," he said in the end, "but fine isn't the same as being good. I know it would bother me." He met that gaze and held it.

Rodney's eyes cut downwards after a moment, and he leaned in to kiss Carson briefly. "I'm, look, I'm fine. I am. Okay, the guy creeps the hell out of me, and I'm completely mortified that the *whole* complex knows that I sucked him off."

"In this sort of place they pretty much know everything about everything," Carson replied gently pulling him closer. "Which can make things claustrophobic I know. When we get home, things will be better. Much better."

"Huh, you ever been to Vegas? Big vacation. I'm taking you on a huge fun vacation when we get back stateside. John, too." That was interesting and it suggested that Rodney felt guilty for all of it, them being there.

Which he was pleased about, because looking at John's injuries had made him feel sick because he must’ve forced himself to keep going and going and he knew how hard it must've been. John was a nice guy, tougher than that laid back look and attitude of his implied. "That would be marvellous. You could calculate our way to a fortune. I hear they get a lot of the Metas there. That must be fascinating."

Similar to his own work. If he developed a gene activator, perhaps he could use a similar process to be a gene deactivator. But that was research for another time.

"It's fun. You know, if you want huge amounts of food, booze and gambling. I've been -- it was fun." And Rodney had been rumoured to not know what fun was, so it had to be something. Rodney's fingers moved again, back up Carson's spine. "So yeah. when we get home."

"Which won't be long right?" Carson replied enjoying that touch. "We just have to keep our heads down until then. It should be fine now we know about the problem, and John is on the mend. He is very resilient. In body at least."

"Yeah. I need to... talk to him or something." Rodney sounded unsure, and he probably was. Rodney wasn't exactly a master of words that were nice phrases. "It's still going to be another month."

"He'll be fine. He likes you," Carson reassured. "Which I can understand and only gives me confidence in his judgement." He smiled at Rodney and petted him.

Rodney closed his eyes, and shuffled back in close to Carson again, brushing a kiss over his mouth. "Liking me is usually a sign of, oh, insanity. It must be catching way out here. I should wrap myself up in plastic before it spreads."

Carson chuckled before he realised Rodney more than half meant it. "Rodney, people do like you, you know. I more than like you. I think it's a case of really getting know who you are."

"If this is where you extol the virtues of my sweet, *real* personality, I'm going to beat you unconscious with a pillow." Rodney mumbled that against his mouth, so the threat was a little less than real.

"Well, you know...you love fluffy kittens..." he murmured unable to stop smiling. "No I mean the bit where I worked out that for a brilliant man, sometimes you can be just a wee bit insecure."

"I wonder why. Oh, I know -- I say something at work that no-one wanted to hear, and they send us all to *Siberia* as punishment. That must be why. It sure makes me feel secure of, huh, nothing at all." Rodney pressed another lazy kiss against Carson's mouth. "Huh. I could get used to this. Talking after sex. Sticking around after sex."

"I don't think it was that...not really. I think we were used as barter, not as a punishment for us. After all, those decisions were made before you said the unpopular thing," Carson pointed out. "And I was certainly popular enough. John though...not so much, he tells me."

"Still feels like it was spite. I said my piece, they told me to go pack my bags, and O'Neill and Carter just sat there. Smirking at me." Rodney sighed, and tipped his head in a little. "Right. Sleep. We should sleep. Don't encourage me, Carson, I've been told I could bitch for hours."

"If there is one thing you can count on is that I would prefer hearing that to the alternative of not being able to hear it," Carson replied, and he wished he knew why he did this. Fell so hard, so fast for someone.

But he wanted it, and could, *could* say it was love and mean it. He meant it. He loved Rodney. And Rodney *trusted* him. He knew Rodney as a co-worker, and a friend, but he didn't know so much about him. Some bad relationships here and there, but who hadn't? Except there'd been the shocking look of novelty on his face when he'd woken up with Carson, when he'd lazed there before they'd both realised they were running late.

Carson wanted to make that less novel for Rodney.

And for him come to that. Relationships were tricky when he had to run off in the middle of the night and pull a parasite out of someone ass and then wasn't allowed to say anything.

"Go to sleep love," he murmured softly. "We’ll get through this."

"One way or another. Would've been proud of me in the staff meeting." Rodney's voice was falling to a level, sleepy mumble. He had an arm hooked loosely over Carson, and an ankle over Carson's calf, knees bumping.

"You can tell me about it tomorrow Rodney," Carson soothed settling in. With any luck, a lot of things would look better tomorrow.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

There was a problem when he couldn't work out exactly how long he had been in the Infirmary. He had a hazy recollection of Carson taking him downstairs, he remembered saying 'Ow, yes, yes that does hurt... just stop *doing* that!' quite a lot when he was being examined. After that things got sort of cotton wool and hazy and a lot less painful and a lot more drugged up. He had a suspicion that the moment he tried getting up without permission, and leaving Carson had left orders for him to be drugged, so he hadn’t managed to automatically break out, though he was getting anxious about what was happening to Rodney and the others. Enough so Carson promised to get him to come down and see him direct so he could prove he was okay.

John just hoped he was awake when Rodney came to see him. And that Rodney was *actually* okay, because it had been at least a day and there was no chance in hell that Rodney could sit on his hands and bite his tongue for that long.

He'd tried explaining this to Carson, who just patted his hand and told him not to worry, and it wasn't like he couldn't move now. He was really feeling a lot better now, if stiff. He liked Carson, but he wasn't sure if the guy understood the consequences. He'd been trained, he knew something about it. Okay, so a lot of Imperials never went through it, but that was a risk like facing direct combat that you took.

Still, he tried not to be an annoying patient.

Just, if Rodney said something at all, he was either going to have to fight or forfeit, unless Carson was fighting for him, and since Carson looked like all his teeth were still in his mouth, it was a good guess that he wasn't. So it was just a matter of waiting for Rodney.

It shouldn't have surprised him that Rodney stuck his head in John's tiny room when lunch was being served.

"Hi."

John turned. "Oh hey, Dr McKay. Good to see you. Want some lunch? It looks, uh, unappetising?" He was studying him closely, looking for signs of injury or something.

Rodney walked into the room fine, though, posture okay, no limbs pulling strangely one way or the other. "That's okay, I just ate. Ugh, they serve the same food out of the hospital as they do in it."

"You'd think we'd get better," John smiled a little and then shifted uncomfortably. "I just wanted to know... if you were doing okay. I've sorta dropped the ball here."

"You did," Rodney agreed solemnly, peering at John's lunch for a moment like he was making sure he didn't want to steal anything. "I had no idea that they were *real* fights. You should have said something."

John looked at him raising his eyebrows. "Would that've made a difference?" He couldn't see a reason why it would make a difference. Rodney was a Freeman, he had a proxy and he didn't have to be careful.

"Huge difference. Massive difference. Not to say you wouldn't have fought ever, because I behaved myself through a staff meeting and someone still called challenge." Rodney snorted, shaking his head a little. "I've actually been holed up in my apartment since then. Radek and I are still hard at work, though."

"Wow." John looked at him. "Okay, if I'd known that maybe I would've said something. But you're a Free, I'm an Imperial and I work for you. Pretty much. And it's okay, I'm mobile now...pretty much. I can fight. Did the person calling challenge accept a fine?"

Rodney rolled his shoulders vaguely. "Small service. It was nothing, really."

Oh, crap. That was exactly what John had wanted to avoid. Really, really wanted to stop any of that. "I'm really sorry. I should've... you could've deferred it. I might've got in within the 24 hour deadline. "

"Yeah, that was five days ago." Rodney lifted an eyebrow at John. "In fact, I distinctly suspect you were drooling into a pillow at the time. Look, it's not a problem. I'm fine, and I've been avoiding people so no-one calls challenge."

"Five *days?*!" He was stunned. "How the hell have I been out of action for five goddam days? Anything could've happened! Jesus, that's my only job, is to make sure you and Carson are okay and..." And he was out cold for five fucking days! And Rodney was doing things he should never have to do. "That's it, I'm getting up right now. Back on active duty just in case. I wasn't *that* bad."

Rodney frowned, and leaned forwards to push John to lie down. "No, you were. You were passed out in your apartment when Carson found you and when I saw you, you were a mess. You needed to recover, okay? And you're going to STAY here until Carson says you can leave."

"Dr McKay, Rodney, you guys need protection, visible protection." Otherwise the Russians would run roughshod over them all, and damn but that hand hit some sore spots but felt... good just from the contact. "Every moment in here is a moment I'm ruining things. " He grabbed at his hand. "I don't want you to have to do any of that again. That's what I'm here for."

"One more day of fights like that, and you would've been *dead*," Rodney stressed, keeping the hand right there. "And yes, I know that we need visible protection, which is why I've been in hiding. Because I don't want Lieutenant creeps-me-out challenging me for breathing wrong because he hasn't had a sex life in years outside of challenge outcomes."

"Vashanova?" John pushed himself up. "Slimy bastard, I kicked his ass first few nights in a row. He should know better. When I get up, get out, you counter challenge if he does that again. Right now, he's got nothing to lose. Did he force you?"

"Force me what?" Rodney honestly didn't follow John's train of thought, but he kept his hand on John's chest. "Look, don't make me pretend I'm bigger than you and might have a chance in hell of keeping you in bed because we both know I'm not."

John found himself smiling and giving a half grin. "Yeah, you got that right. I mean force you to have sex. Push it further...some do that."

"There was a reason why I opted for the empty conference room and not, say, his apartment." Rodney shifted back, giving John room while he sat up. "I'm mouthy, not stupid."

"No one could accuse you of that," John replied, wincing a little. "You shouldn't've been in that position. I was trying to stop that sort of thing from happening."

"When you're better, we'll do that counter challenge thing. It's, I'll explain it once you get out of here, okay?" Rodney flashed him a smile and reached to pat John's arm. "Lay back down."

"As far as I'm concerned, I'm going to be out of here today," John said. "Five days, I can't believe it!"

"You better bloody well believe it John." There was a voice from the doorway and Carson stepped in. "You were pretty much unconscious and had a concussion at the time as well."

"Ah hah, the voice of reason is here. Carson, tell him he's not allowed to leave right now. He'll listen to you." Rodney twisted a little, gesturing at Carson to get him closer. They definitely had a comfortable rapport that seemed more comfy than it had when they'd gotten to Siberia.

"No I won't,” John replied looking at Carson.

"I'm the doctor, I have the drugs," Carson pointed out. "Don't make me get about... uh six people to hold you down so I can inject you like I did last time."

John paused. "I don't remember that," he had to admit eventually and he found that disturbing.

"Aye well, painkillers, alcohol is a bad combination. You were off your head," Carson replied, walking over to put a familiar hand on Rodney's shoulder.

Ah well, looked like he'd missed all that as well. "Also you looked like one of the corpses in that show about the Runners," Rodney suggested vaguely. Yeah, John had seen a few eps of that. Pretty gruesome shit. "I mean, all you needed was the cuffs."

John looked absently at his hands and wrists. "Never worn them, never had them," he said. He’d always had Imperial insignias to fall back on.

"Just as well," Carson said. "John, I want to keep you in a little longer. It's not likely to be like before, but Rodney has to start coming out of hiding at some point so things will start up again. And none of us wants...anything like what happened before."

"It's not a huge secret, Carson, and I'm not going to freak out if you talk about it," Rodney told them both stubbornly. Yeah, except for where John suspected he would, and that was the last thing they needed.

John cleared his throat. "It's my *job* Rodney. Protection. Making sure that doesn't happen to you. That's why they assigned this detail."

"John is correct about that, although don't get the impression I'm happy about this happening to you either. This whole place is crazy," Carson commented. "It's just that, we can't fault your reasoning. Rodney is the one that can get us out of here and..."

"And he needs to be able to work without distractions, yeah I know."

"I've been working," Rodney pointed out. "And, I have a staff meeting tomorrow, and we're much further along than we were."

John looked at the both of them. "I am going to be at that staff meeting," he said. "Even if you have to inject me with drugs. I am going to be there personally and if someone gives you a stupid challenge, you counter-challenge right back."

"John, I'm not sure if that's wise."

"It's not," Rodney agreed, tapping John's arm again. "It might be seen as baiting. I'm not sure."

John looked at them both. "I'll stand there, I won't say anything, but if one of them pulls something ... minor, I will politely respond."

As politely as he could at least. Carson was looking torn. "Rodney, maybe... with the situation, you should be protected."

"They're going to wonder why he wasn't there before. Even if it does go with the rumour that I am apparently not a man at all, but a big wuss." Rodney narrowed his eyes a little, and seemed to startle. "Oh, oh hell. Oh hell. It's the general here, on my radio. Oh fuck, uh..." 

Rodney lifted a hand to his headset and pressed on it to broadcast as he made a shushing gesture at John and Carson. "Yes, I'll be down there to pick up the next batch of parts sometime today, sir."

John mouthed 'I'm going with you' at him even as Carson tried to shush him as well and they could hear the voice respond.

"Good. They wish to clear the area for some additional work for an off world team. Prompt attention would be appreciated."

Kolya. And he knew what that meant. It meant they were doing a rush job, a rush job they didn't want people to know about.

"Fine, great. I'll be on my way soon, then, sir. I'll notify Radek for you about the parts, if you'd like...?" Rodney acting polite was almost straining to hear, and he looked like he was concentrating so hard on it.

"That would be appreciated Dr McKay. General Kolya out."

"They’re up to something," John said. "I need to be up and around Carson. I mean it."

The doctor was wavering. "Major, if they're breathing, then they're up to something. And you're in no condition to fight anything off, except me. And me? I'm not much of a threat."

Except he looked at him like that and one half of him wanted to give in, the other half to make sure no one ever had the chance to do that to him again. He could be stubborn. He could be more stubborn than anyone.

"This is not something up for discussion," John replied. "Five days is long enough."

"Nonono, look, if I get another little challenge, fine, I can handle it, but if something big comes up I need you okay for that." Rodney started to stand up.

"Rodney, I don't want you to 'handle it.'. You're the genius, you shouldn't be having that sort of thing," John pushed again. "If I'm there, there might not be any small challenges."

Carson cleared his throat looking at Rodney, obviously looking for instruction.

"Or they might see a weak imperial and pile them on. I'm not sure." Rodney shoved his hands into his pockets, and then turned away. "It's your call, Major."

"They won't *see* a weak Imperial," John replied, sure enough he could act that much. "Are there any visible bruises on the face?"

Carson looked at him "No, but they are still all over your body John."

"I can deal with that," John said. “And logically, I could be there to catch up on things."

"Why do I have a feeling this is going to go horribly wrong?" Rodney threw them both a look. "Carson, does he have a uniform here, or...? Because if I have to go back to the apartments to get him one, I'm going to pass the machinist shop and they're going to decide something is up with *us*."

"I have clothes here. The ones he was in when he got here," Carson replied. "I'll get them. And a shot, because like it or not Major, you will be as stiff as a board trying to move."

"I can handle that. Won't be the first time." Like being an Imperial was all roses.

Hell, maybe they thought it was. John couldn't be sure, not when Rodney sat down in the chair at the far side of the curtains, and seemed to settle in to impatiently wait.

Carson fetched the clothes and both of them seemed intent on watching him dress, and yeah, he was stiff when he moved forward, but not so stiff his muscles wouldn't loosen. And he didn't feel exhausted any more. Which was good. Very good and made up for a lot when he gingerly stretched himself to loosen up.

"You haven't seen a man get dressed before?" he asked eventually, conscious that he was being watched.

"Well, not in quite so many colours with quite so many muscles," Carson said frankly.

"Just this morning, actually, but *wow*, you're a mess." Rodney tilted his head to one side a little as he kept watching John. "You can almost make out *shapes*. Carson, does that look like a dog to you, there, over the right hip?"

"I was thinking more of a donkey actually," Carson said leaning forward to inspect it. "Or a very deformed rabbit."

John looked down. "It looks nothing like that. And it looks worse than it is."

"Well obviously," Carson replied nodding. "Otherwise you would be dead."

"Dead people don't bruise," Rodney said decisively, and then glanced at Carson. "Do they? Because a zombie would really finish this whole thing off for me."

"There are no zombies in Russia, Rodney," Carson replied and absently steadied John as he tried putting on clothes. "And no bruising on dead people either."

"Well, that's a comfort," John replied bending over and nearly getting stuck there.

When Carson helped him straighten back up, Rodney was still grimacing. "I'm going to plead muteness or something. God, Major, you can't and aren’t going to fight anything yet..."

"Bit of adrenalin, and someone swing for you and you'd be amazed at how fast movement comes back," John replied, trying to deny it hurt like hell.

It didn't help that Rodney was all restless fidgeting, standing up again, pulling at the buttons of his coat before he walked towards John to try to steady him while Carson buttoned up his uniform. "I'll take your word on it."

"Yes, well I won't, " Carson said going over to fetch a syringe. "Try not to let this get you a little too happy now."

John offered him an arm. "Don't worry doc, I'll promise not to enjoy it." Even if he was relieved to have the stinging injection. He rolled his neck, hearing it crack and smiled as if there was nothing wrong with him. "Okay Dr. Mckay, I'm up and ready for action."

Rodney just stared at him for a minute, and then he stared at Carson. "You're sending him out *high*? Oh god, c'mon, before you start to see butterflies..."

"Relax Rodney, I'll be fine," John replied, feeling the miraculous fuzz of drugs hit his bloods stream. "I promise not to talk about any butterflies I see. Thanks doc."

Carson was still looking worried but he nodded. "Both of you, be careful."

Careful. John would be careful, and John would make sure that nothing went wrong. The Russians, or Kolya at least, were up to something. Some quick project, something underneath the radar if they wanted Rodney to get his parts now and probably not be back for a while.

Rodney stepped out into the hallway, half-waiting for John.

Walking was tricky, but as long as he let his muscles hang loose, it was coming back. "Relax, I'm okay. Just loosening up," he said with a smile. Quick projects were the worse because they weren't planned properly and things inevitably went very wrong. If that was going to happen, he wanted to be ready. He wanted to get used to walking and maybe running again, and fast. Any mission planned by anyone that was that fast, it never ended well unless they were extremely lucky. And if and when things went south, he needed to know what was going on.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. I know what I can stand." All too well. He tried changing the subject. "You and Carson huh? Getting serious?"

Rodney pulled the hood of his coat up, and shoved his hands into his pocket. "I don't know. Maybe. Probably. Why?"

John shrugged. "Just interested. Good for you. He's a great guy." And there went even faint hopes out of the window.

"Yeah," Rodney agreed quietly, and it got quieter when they stepped outside. Rodney grimaced against the cold air. "Yeah, he is. So are you. I can't believe you did that for me. You should have said something."

"I'm an Imperial, I don't get to question Freemen I am assigned to," John said, not sure why they couldn’t seem to grasp this basic concept. The Imperials protected the Empire – the Freemen, the Masters and the Bond-slaves alike. End of story. "Though I really wish I had now."

"You should. If a freeman isn't..." Rodney gestured with one hand. "Being paid off is different than being born that way. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, I know that. But contrary to popular belief, Imperials aren't the same as Freemen," John replied still walking carefully. "Bond-slaves don't usually get death as a work hazard unless they are Fighters."

"Or, you know, they have a particularly shitty House," Rodney suggested. Rodney walked *fast*, but he was hanging back now, keeping even with John.

"Or that, yeah." John kept walking. "We get taught different things, especially those of us born in, rather than House allocated. We learn that we have privileges but we have to protect everyone else and I can't explain it, I have to do that. However I can."

He grew up with that being a fundamental part of his childhood. Everything revolved around doing his duty, protecting those who were not Imperial. Military or not, that was what Imperials did, and they used every means possible to do it. Yeah, they got good pay, good privileges, but then they fought Wars, risked being War-slaves where the rules that governed civilized House Wars, or Challenge Fights just did not exist.

"Lorne didn't seem particularly concerned. Look, I just uh. Nevermind. C'mon, we're almost there." Rodney put a hand on John's arm, pulling at him gently.

John looked at him and reminded himself that the warm feeling could well be drugs, and even if it wasn't, Rodney had a relationship going on. Maybe Lorne hadn't seemed concerned because maybe he hadn't the same sort of service history as John. Who knew?

He made an effort to not show any weakness as they entered the machinist workplace. And Rodney got a little ahead of him, unzipping his coat and waltzing in like he knew exactly what he was doing, which he probably did. There were other people there, none of them ones John immediately recognised. 

Except General Kolya.

"Okay, I'm here for the parts for the generator."

He noticed Kolya looking at him and he put on his easy smile as he looked at him. No problem, John to the rescue.

"We appreciate your prompt attention Dr McKay," General Kolya said and John flicked his gaze around the room even as they focused on Rodney.

"Not a problem, sir," Rodney answered with an over-eager smile that was a little disconcerting. "My imperial will help me carry the parts out."

"Ah, I wondered why you had your armed escort today," General Kolya said. "Yes, especially since you have been absent recently Major Sheppard."

John smiled. "Just a little something I had to take care of. " The shrewd bastard probably knew his exact physical condition. "Nothing that will slow me down or stop me acting as a beast of burden."

Let him think the Infirmary reports were a little inaccurate. "Which you get to do because all of these parts? Are going to be heavier than an actual generator. Lots of things end up being sent back." Rodney glanced around, and then smiled politely, or tried to, at Kolya. "Ah, I don’t see the usual box they're put in."

John wandered over, looking in a box. "This it over here?" he asked preparing to pick it up.

"No. Please put that down Major Sheppard, it's very... delicate equipment," one of the machinists said hastily.

"Oh sorry," John said. "I wouldn't know a generator part if it hit me around the head. Where is it?"

Which was a lie, and he could recognise a nearly assembled high powered cutting laser, and resonant imaging equipment. Even so he ambled over to the indicated box.

Cutting laser, that was interesting. Rodney glanced around, feigning boredom John was pretty sure, shooting the odd nervous glance at General Kolya. "I'm sure Doctor Zelenka wants to get back to work, Major Sheppard. Let's not waste time."

"Yes sir," John replied automatically and lifted the box, having to pretend it didn’t hurt like hell. He'd learned how to suspend that part of things in his mind and just keep going. He smiled again at Kolya as he headed out, knowing the man was watching him every movement

Rodney zipped up his coat again, turning to look at Kolya again instead of following John. "Anything else, sir?"

"No Dr McKay. I will look forward to hearing your report tomorrow," Kolya said. "I'm sure you will have a great deal to report. Please, do not let me delay you any further."

"Thank you, sir." Rodney pulled his hood on and there, he was following John again. John was willing to bet that Kolya wanted to see Rodney's report, and whatever challenges that followed. John was just going to *have* to be okay,

He didn't like what he had just seen. There was no reason for Kolya to be there unless he was running interference, or directly overseeing the operation which probably meant an unsanctioned Imperial operation. He knew about those, and they were the ones where it went belly up, you were there hung out to dry, up that proverbial shit creek and both paddles in splinters. High risk, high gain.

They were outside again, and John was pretty sure they had found something. Found something big.

"Holy shit, let's go go go," Rodney murmured, leaning against him, jostling him in ways that hurt, and he took the box from John. "Here, I'm taking it because if you drop it we'll all die."

He let him take it, if only because he was sure he was right. "Did you catch a glimpse of anything in there?" he asked.

"Laser," Rodney muttered.. "A laser and an imaging device and a lot of sensory wires. Drilling, you think?"

"Resonant imager as well. They've found something and I think this isn't something that is being declared as an operation," John replied. "Kolya is sticking his neck out on this one. High risk and I bet it's off world. All of those things are portable."

"Radek mentioned that they were liable to do something like that -- and by 'like that' I mean, stupid and short sighted, but as long as we *don't* get involved, we get to go home in one piece." Rodney hurried, but he still kept back, held back, waiting for John.

"Radek seems like a very clever guy, but if it involves an Imperial screw up, that could affect everyone," John replied, catching up.

"Effect everyone how?" And really, Rodney would be the guy to know, wouldn't he? John had finally sat down and used his clearance codes to log into the SGC server to read some mission reports. Screwups at the level they were at meant death and destruction.

"Look, when something is this covert, this big, the odds are high that if things go wrong, it's not just a case of being able to hide it. It's a case of trying to make sure the world isn't destroyed, or a lot of people killed. I read a lot of the SGC reports. I even hacked and read some of theirs too and they have a bigger history of losses than we ever did." John grimaced a little. "I don't think anyone they piss off will pay attention to the fact that hey, we're not the same as them."

"Fantastic," Rodney muttered. He was leading them towards his apartment, not back to the infirmary, and while that seemed like a good idea, it was a long trek over the uneven pavement. "What do you want to do? Call home and panic?"

"Well, it's also possible if they recover Ancient technology they might see fit to ensure no word gets back to the SGC. I want to make sure I've got something in place for all contingencies," John replied. "Maybe I might try and visit Idos...I'm willing to think Kolya is going to keep this in the family."

"He'd probably be glad to see you again, just, uh..." Rodney cleared his throat as he fumbled with one gloved hand into his back pocket. "Shit, grab my id card for me and swipe it?"

John reached a cold hand into Rodney's pocket and was distracted a little by the feel of his ass and might've lingered a little too long as he drew out the card. Had to be the drugs. It really did.

He swiped and let them inside, back into the comparative warmth. "Just what?" John asked.

"I'll tell you when we get to my apartment. I have a, uh, thingy I need to show you." Rodney made a bizarre hand gesture, and bumped the door open with his hip and held it with the heel of his shoe so John could get in after him.

"McKay, I never knew you cared," John said with a smirk but followed him anyway.

"I'm praticising not being an asshole. It's hard work, so don't push me," Rodney grinned. His expression was loose, easy, and then he started up the steps ahead of John.

It was probably the drugs but John was fighting an urge to be totally unprofessional with Rodney, to Rodney, or whatever. He liked that expression and it was stupid because his contact with the man had been very limited and he wasn't the handsomest guy, or even the most pleasant he'd met, but he looked at him and...

Yeah, it had to be that shot Carson gave him. "I'll make a point of it. You okay carrying that?"

"Sure. I'm fit and healthy, remember? And you're, well, fresh out of the infirmary. Look scary for me if someone else shows up," Rodney dictated, tromping on ahead of John up the stairs still.

"I'll practise my scowl," John replied finding the stairs a little more difficult than he would've liked to admit. "We going back to yours?"

"It's become a workshop. Radek likes the floor space and I think it has better lighting. We're not sure." And it was probably easier for him to just do that since he was probably staying with Carson, and John wasn't going to think about it. He'd encouraged it, after all.

He was practically responsible after all. "Right, okay, that's good. Makes turning up for work easy huh?" He had to take a few deep breaths as they rounded the flight, but his muscles were loose again. He could react if he had to.

If someone came up the stairs after them, he could at least throw himself in the way. Not that he'd been around either Rodney or Carson enough to actually do any guarding before then. Maybe he could pre-empt the fights by just being there, get ahead of the situation before things got out of hand. "Yeah, it does."

Maybe he'd approached this whole deal the wrong way. He should've stayed up close and personal. And hell, things had been lonely the way he'd done it. He hadn't lost that many fights, although Idos occasionally sought him out and he'd been more than willing to let him, even knowing the security risk involved. 

They were nearly there, thank god because right now he was getting to the warm fuzzy stage of drugs. "Cool. You want me to lurk in a corner?"

"Hey, if you want to sit in the corner and zone out and drink coffee, I'm okay with it. Rest, all right?" Rodney fumbled for his key, and he trapped the box between the wall and his hip for the moment he needed to open the door.

"I might just do that. Listen in some...try and work out what you guys are talking about," John said, leaning in automatically to support the box, brushing close to Rodney and feeling a jolt.

It had to be the drugs.

Rodney's eyes went a little wide, and then he pushed a hand against John's back for a moment, ushering him into the small, somewhat equipment cluttered apartment. "Listen all you want."

There was already the Czech scientist sitting on the floor, glasses sliding down his nose. He was cross-legged on the floor, balancing a laptop on his knees. "Rodney, yes, good," Zelenka looked up and saw John. "And your Major Sheppard yes? Good. Good. I am glad to see you looking so well Major."

"Good to meet you, Dr Zelenka," John said with a smile. "I think I owe you a drink sometime... for being the only person on the base to not throw a challenge my way."

Radek smiled. "Indeed yes. Rodney and I fight our own battles. If he is being particularly stupid of course."

"Stubborn," Rodney corrected. He was shrugging out of his coat again, setting the box of pieces on the top of the dining room table. "Stupid would imply that I was actually *wrong* -- so, how's the simulation I left for you look? We also have the machined parts for what looks like the next week."

"Is looking good. The field topology finally corresponds which means we can finally build the modified version. Portable yes?" Zelenka said as John gratefully settled himself down in a nearby chair to listen and apparently float happily on a little Scottish sourced narcotic cloud. That stuff was good. Even if it seemed to plug right into his libido.

Which was bizarre, because Rodney was nice-looking enough, lean-ish and a little younger than John, and full of vitality whether it was nervous or arrogance. But he wasn't drop dead drooling on himself, and even Rodney was willing to face that he was an asshole.

Carson probably had no idea what good drugs were capable of.

"Very portable. You can lift it in two hands and carry it around. We store ours in these huge padded suitcases.”

"Good. Portable is good. We will be ahead of even our schedule," Zelenka said. "You chose where to report this. Have you spoken to your Major?"

Rodney's Major started to pay a little more attention and focused on them both. "No, he hasn't. Rodney?"

"I wanted to tell you somewhere that we had a jammer, which we do." Rodney rapped the table-top lightly. "So, I'll report where we actually are now in a couple of weeks. It's uh. The house that mostly runs this project is extremely cut-throat and Radek suspects that we'd all be useful additions to their house."

And he'd been asleep in the Infirmary for five days for god's sake. "Okay. Is this a suspicion or a... fact?"

Dr Zelenka looked at him and tilted his head a little. "Well, much depends on success. Rodney is seen as exceptional. Dr Beckett has the gene, and is valuable for that alone, and you are spoken of well by the Kolya Heir. It would be no hardship to them to make you disappear."

"Are you particularly interested in being Idos Kolya's personal, Major?" Rodney started to open up the box of parts, sorting them all carefully. "If we finish early, we can have our bags packed and plane tickets out of here before they can manoeuvre anything into place. That challenge from Lieutenant creeps-me-out was made in front of General Kolya, and it was stupid and pointless, but he let it go on anyway because I think he *wants* you worn out and useless."

"More than likely. But he can't legitimately challenge for possession of you or Carson," John said frowning "To do that, he'd have to issue that direct to stargate command. I'm meant to be your protector, but..." He shrugged a little. "Anything he does would be illegal. Transport away could be a problem. " 

But he could fly anything, anywhere. Yes. "How close are you?"

"A few weeks, if things stay on the current course. Huh, looks like they machined the parts correctly enough, but we don't know until we start trying to fit them together and check for gaps... " Rodney leaned into the box, and John could hear the careful motions of metal against metal. "If we completely disappear, Major, he won't have to worry about legality one way or the other."

"Yeah, I get that," John replied. It did worry him. "You two carry on doing the genius thing, I'll just be over here trying to work this all through in my head."

He needed to look at it from every angle he could, prepare for the ambush and really, seriously not get distracted by the way McKay bent over to pick things up.

Damn drugs.

He could definitely think on it, and at some point he needed to radio Carson to let them know that *they* were okay, and ask how he was. Yeah, that was a good idea, and by the time he returned his attention to Rodney, hopefully he wouldn't be bending over the table like that.

* * *

Things were getting just that little bit too fraught for comfort for Carson, and he felt pretty isolated down in the Infirmary knowing what he now knew. He was there until the evening and pretty much everyone else had gone off and John had orders to come down if he'd had any fights, and even if he hadn't. The man was bloody convincing at hiding things, though. 

In the mean time he was fiddling with the gene sequencing simulations, trying to work out what proteins and enzymes needed to be unlocked.

It was a brilliant idea that he had, and fairly unexecutable under current laws, but he could still dream, and the SGC might make some legal exceptions to the testing rules for him, for the project. But that wasn't what the Russians wanted. They wanted him to test more people, and then the other doctors had started to hand him small pieces of Ancient tech to touch and bring to life for them. And not all of them worked without a gene-holder utilizing them.

Truth was, he had the gene but it was hard. Bloody difficult. There were still some bits of the tech that wouldn't stir, and he prodded at a couple of them. Everything now and then he'd pick one of them up and run his thoughts through something trying to get it to respond. Yes, it was a wee bit like magic when it happened, but sometimes it didn't happen. This current object that was hand held, and like a ovoid compact and wasn't moving at all. Stupid thing.

It probably sensed that his gene was useless, watered down, and didn't even stir a little in his palm.

But maybe it would later. He set it down on his desk, and decided to let it lay there for a few minutes before he tried it again. Hopefully something interesting and distracting would come up, and that it wouldn't be John's return from a fight.

The five days asleep had been a difficult call on his part. Half of him wanted John out there protecting them, but the other half saw how hurt he really was. It had been ridiculous really. He was beginning to wonder what sort of training they gave and whether he was going to end up addicting the Imperial to painkillers at this rate.

He looked up hearing footsteps at the door and was relieved to see John coming in. "Major Sheppard, I was just wondering how you were."

The fact that he was walking upright and seemed to have his senses about him was a plus. "Yeah. Just a short bout, counter challenge. Just the one today." He offered it up like it was a good thing, when it meant bruises on top of bruises. He took his jacket off, smiling a little "I won a dvd back."

"I hope it was a good DVD," Carson said. "Here, lie down, let me make sure you didn't rip anything. I'm hoping to take the stitches out tomorrow maybe."

He gestured to the bed across his desk. "Take any bad hits John?"

"He tried to sweep my legs out from under me with a roundhouse and just stunned my calf for a minute. Left one. I'm not even limping. The guy honestly sucked. It was worth it to start to turn the tables on them." He started to unbutton his shirt, and then glanced at Carson. "Should I just strip?"

"Well, I want to look at that leg..." Carson replied reminding himself that he was entering a relationship with Rodney and there was no way anyone should look that *good* with so many bruises.

But as Sheppard took off his clothes, he had to concede, privately that he did. He really did look that good. "Hopefully, you'll get a chance and they will back off. There is still a lot of bruising here. Nasty stuff."

John skimmed his pants off, and instead of lying down, sat slouched on the edge of the exam bed. There was a dark bruise forming on his calf, but not as bad as most that he'd come to Carson sporting. Some ice applied as quickly as possible would go a long way to helping. "That's what the plan is."

Ice packs were...over in the store room and he grabbed one and then put it over the area. "Lets see if we can stop that becoming a nasty bruise like all of these others. Still looking colourful I see. How’s the pain been?"

"Better. I've been resting most of today and yesterday, and Rodney keeps his apartment pretty well-heated. I don't think him and Doctor Radek are ever heading back to that lab." There was a faint look of conspiratorialness on John's face when he suggested that.

"Ah...well...understandable if they've got things set up there the way Rodney likes it," Carson said. He cleared his throat trying to think of a distraction. "John, when I found you, I was on my way to ask if you would have the test for the gene. You mind if I do it? It is very rare unfortunately, rarer than I thought, but frankly I'm testing anyone and everyone."

"If you're going to hold me hostage with this ice-pack here, we might as well. How do you test?" Carson could already see John flexing one hand slightly, before he started to move like he was offering his arm for a blood test.

"I take a wee sample of blood usually, but I usually start off with the random ancient object test. It's not always the best indicator," he said reaching for the strange ovoid shape. "This? I've been trying this one on and off for a while. I still can't get it to work. Some I manage with a bit of work, and other are easy. That's why I do the blood test. But...here..." he tossed it to John anyway.

John's hands shot out, and he caught it carefully, closing his fingers around it. "What will it do if I have the-- whoa."

The dull semi-translucent covering seemed to luminesce, and it started to open on its hinge.

Carson stared. "That, apparently," he said faintly. "Oh my god. John..." He'd never seen a reaction like that to ancient technology. Not even an effort just immediate activity and interaction. He wasn't even sure General O'Neill was that linked in genetically. "Think of something. Can you tell what it might do?"

"It, uh..." John shifted it to his other hand, staring down at what seemed to be a screen. There was one dot on it, and then it shifted to one other dot. "Huh. Hold on, I'm thinking."

Carson peered over his shoulder and then exhaled as a small image faded into view of Rodney and there was a beep as if there was a lock on, and somehow schematics unravelled around the dot that was now glowing and moving around. "A locator. Finder." Carson found himself laughing. "An ancient dowsing rod!"

"Awesome!" John laughed a little, staring down at it. "This is, it's all controlled by my *brain*?"

"That's pretty much how ancient technology works," Carson said. "Although I've never seen anyone work it like you are doing right now John."

It was incredible, and he was leaning in close. "Try someone else?"

There was a moment where the signal on Rodney faded and the schematic disappeared before there was a small image of Carson, and a new dot with schematic, and a dot almost overlapping what Carson suspected was the dot that stood for him. 

"That must be me."

"That's pretty impressive. Does it tell you anything about me?" Carson said still peering at it. Ancient devices could frequently translate themselves through thoughts. There was that whole weird translation effect around Stargates after all.

John's eyes stayed focused on it, but he nodded slightly. "Just that you seem well. Maybe this is something medical? Like, finding people on the battlefield? Or checking in on them."

"Possibly. " Carson straightened up and looked around. "How about we keep this discovery a secret right now?" he said quietly hoping there weren't as many listening devices around the place as Zelenka had mentioned.

"That sounds like a great idea," John murmured, closing it. But he didn't hand it back to Carson, he leaned forwards a little and pocketed it. "Might come in handy."

Carson nodded. "Currently it's Unknown artefact 17. You can show Rodney later." He couldn't stop himself beaming. "My God, my God, John."

He wasn't sure what they were going to do, but people with the ATA gene were much rarer than Meta's and he was pretty sure John Sheppard was going to be getting over whatever the problem was on his record.

"Hmn?" He'd probably get two whole promotions when he got back, and they'd love to have him just like they loved to have O'Neill and loved to keep Carson contracted no matter what he was doing on their dime.

And John looked at Carsn like that and he had no idea how important he was, how incredible he was in a whole different way to someone like Rodney. It was hard for Carson, he had to work at it, but John was like... like Rodney at Maths and physics. Instinctive, built in. And with John, he probably could work on a mRNA serum to activate those genes. John's would be working like beacons to his anaemic gloworm versions.

"You have no idea how special you are." Carson smiled and he didn't know why he did it, he just ruffled that permanently tousled hair.

John's eyebrows crawled up towards his hairline. "I don't think I've heard that in years. Are you sure you're all right, doc?"

"Oh aye." Carson was beaming. "Tell you what, you come back up with me and we'll get Rodney, and I've got a very special bottle I've been saving for, well, now. Finding you."

"For finding me? I hate to tell you, but I've been here the whole time. The holy grail, I'm not." John stretched his muscles a little hazily. "Do I get ice-packs?"

"Plenty of them," Carson promised. "Put your trousers back on and we'll go up. We'll radio Rodney - I don't want him killing himself with overwork either."

"He was at the fight earlier, actually. And then he squirreled off with Doctor Zelenka again. They're really..." John shifted to pull his clothes back together, the motions giving away some of his aches and pains. "Intensely at work."

Carson remembered to pick up another syringe of the painkiller for later. John would probably need it. "Yes, Rodney gets lost in his own world sometimes. Sometimes he needs to be broken out of it."

"Doctor Zelenka will probably appreciate the break." John reached for his t-shirt to pull it on again. "It wasn't such a bad night."  
   
"Still, not something you should have to be doing John," Carson replied, helping him a little as he had difficulties. "I dread the time someone might Challenge me. Doctors never get minor challenges."

"Major ones, right?" John slipped to his feet, putting his boots back on. 

"Life and death ones usually, yes," Carson replied. "At least here they would be. At home they would be insured for by the House… or Imperial services. I don't want that happening to you. I'm not even that comfortable with this. Bruises and you looking like you were beaten to near death."

"I'm not particularly comfortable with it, either, Doctor Beckett. But I'm going to make sure we all get out of here in one piece, which I can't do if I get killed in a fight. So..." John reached for his coat. "I'm not sure what I'm saying. Let's get out of here."

Carson wasn't going to disagree with that. At least if John was with them, he wouldn't be worrying about whether he was okay or not. And he really did want to celebrate. They deserved that much.

* * *

Carson had a funny nose.

It wasn't normally funny, but right then it was the funniest thing in the world to Rodney, and it made him wonder how close to rotgut Carson's scotch was. Scotch scotch, even. Carson's funny nose was competing right then with the major's hair for amusement factor and Radek trying to learn swear words, or teach John Czech swear words. He wasn't sure who was winning.

"I knowing...I know many swear words," Zelenka was saying. "Rodney has helped me there. Idiotic piece of crap is one of his favourites." John and Carson found this very funny, and John was already half sprawled out with a melting icepack draped over his leg.

It was possibly the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen in an apartment that he'd had. Three other people who *liked* his company, questionable booze, and all of them just grinning. "Just for, just for people and equipment! That's all I call that."

"And animals," Carson chipped in. "Birds, if they shit, you know, he's called them that."

"That's pretty much everything. Except food," John pointed out lazily, looking over at him and smiling in a way that made him indecently good looking. 

"Insult food? Things would have to be really bad," Zelenka said.

"Unless it was citrus," Carson pointed out.

John nodded solemnly. "Citrus is evil. It part of my duty to throw myself on any lemon or orange slices that come near Rodney." He then smirked.

"Hah, hah, that's so funny -- you should go on a tour when we get back home." Rodney leaned forwards to pick up the scotch bottle to pour himself another two fingers worth. "I still can't believe. You. You have it."

"Carson could always test you again."

"For a third time," Carson added. "I'm telling you...it was beautiful. Lights without even trying. Function without trying... stronger than Colonel O'Neill. I wonder if it is a coincidence that there's a flying thing. Mind you, the colonel tries to pretend he's not smart. That's not true."

"Maybe John is smart," Zelenka refilled his glass. "Yes?" John just raised his eyebrows at them all.

"John's smart," Rodney scoffed. "First day on the job he tried to talk through the gate theory that, well -- it was WRONG, but he was trying, and that’s more than most imperials ever do." Rodney leaned forwards again, and offered John -- or maybe John's eyebrows, since they'd been more participatory in conversation so far than John had -- another drink.

"I tried, I failed..." John replied. "Story of my life." He reached out and let his glass get filled again.

Carson was looking at him concerned. "You don't mean that, do you John?"

The Imperial smiled. "Nah. You worry too much Carson. Have another drink. Anyway...it's interesting stuff, even if I don't get it. Better than the hour you guys were playing Prime Not Prime earlier."

Zelenka twisted. "I was thinking you were asleep!"

"Hey, prime not prime is a very useful, useful, uh..." Rodney took another sip, and let it burn a hole in his throat on the way down. "It keeps the mind busy while you twist wires."

"It usually ends up with you saying that he is cheating," John replied with good humour.

"Which I am not doing," Zelenka pointed out.

"Of course not." Carson took a gulp again. "Never mind Rodney, if John allows me to experiment a little, I'm hoping to make an activation serum. You might get your chance after all."

Activation serum. "So you think that exposure to a gene might make you a carrier? Like... with a virus? What's the..." Rodney snapped his fingers, and son of a bitch, it was *right* there. "TB! Hah!"

Carson chuckled a little. "Rodney, you know as much about gene therapy as I do about wormhole physics," he said. "It's more complex than that. But I think the gene control certain proteins, and enzymes that act as a genetic key to unlock technology. No...enemy could fake that without effectively not being their enemy anymore."

"That's pretty cool." John murmured. "So I'm part Ancient."

"All that means is that some horny ancient has sex with the evolutionary equivalent of a caveman," Rodney scoffed, and drained his drink. "We're them version 2 to begin with. It's possible that the gene could develop, or it was induced to start with..."

"Is not polite to be jealous of the Major's DNA," Zelenka pointed out. "He is no caveman."

That set John laughing. "You sure about that?"

"Hey, I said *equivalent* -- anyway, if I were an ancient, I'd probably have had sex with your ancestor, too. I bet your whole family line was hot." Rodney twirled the glass between his fingers, and tossed Carson a grin.

"I second that," Carson raised a toast.

"I third it," Zelenka said unexpectedly. "If you had breasts. I prefer breasts. I don't see nearly enough of them."

He sounded curiously wistful, even has John looked back at them all. "Well I don't *have* breasts....I have...man bits," John gestured at himself.

"I bet they're great. But it wouldn't exactly pass down the genetic line very well, would it? Not that I'm ever going to. Jeannie's gunna have enough kids for the whole McKay name." The glass was a little slick in his fingers, and maybe he could spin it on the table top.

"Did you know there's some evidence that the gay gene is passed down on the female line?" Carson said randomly.

"Well that explains a lot," John stretching slowly and almost indecently and took another drink. "Mmm."

"My uncle was gay, and then there were four cousins who all were..." Zelenka said. "But in Russian Empire, there are ways. People do things to make things happen." He nodded conspiratorially. "Like House Kolya and Heir. Big scandal, but everyone know, no one tell."

"What was it?" Because if no-one told, well, Rodney *had* to ask. He had to know, because he already didn't like the house.

"General Kolya has a twin brother, who is House Kolya Master," Zelenka said. "Acastus Kolya is Imperial from young age, bringing much honour to House Kolya. Borstus Kolya, build House up into a specialism. Bortsus marry young but no heirs. Not for first year, second...many."

"I can see where this is going," Carson mumbled and John agreed.

"Yes. No Heir, is a big problem. Confidence in House with no secure bloodline is very low. So. Acastus stay while on leave. In dark room after wine, maybe close enough to brother yes? Free run of House Concubines, House pleasure slaves," Zelenka said. "Soon, children. Some unacknowledged, and others... Idos Kolya, officially Borstus blood Heir, but all know he is Acastus Kolya flesh and blood, and son of his heart."

John leaned back. "I really pick 'em."

"Pick 'em? "Oh, right. Imperial to Imperial. "So I guess you two weren't doing manly gun-wielding bonding?" More like manly 'gun-wielding', and that was a mental image to hold onto.

"Well, yeah. We were doing that," John said with a slight smirk. "It's like dogs sniffing butts or something. You just got to do it. He beat me, and he liked it. I let him like it. There was sex and he liked that too."

"I bet he did," Carson added. "As long as he wasn't the dangerous fetish guy..."

John shook his head. "Nah, some mild bondage stuff, but nothing more than you'd cover in a few weeks of Personals training."

"....which would mean you are assuming we've had that," Carson said.

"I haven't," Zelenka said morosely. "A waste of resources they said."

"What, you wanted it?" Rodney asked, leaning to look at Zelenka, because that was Crazy. "Personally? I failed it. A huge part of the grading was always being gracious. I think -- Carson, is it wood grade?"

"Splinters more like. So you keep telling me," Carson said. "I got the interaction lessons but none of that."

John looked astonished. "So...your buddies didn't get together, and buy you a weekend with Personals before you hit advanced levels? It was pretty standard. Sometimes you'd wake up there...make sure you had pretty much all types of virginity dealt with before you got to training?"

"How many types can you have?" Radek asked.

"Oral, anal, vaginal? Except you have to have the last part to do that one. Giving and taking, and then there's kinks, but if you screw up on the lower levels and you're a scientist, they stop trying to get you to higher levels, because, like Radek said, waste of time. I worked out how to suck cock on my own hours, not theirs," Rodney declared.

"And I for one am very pleased you indulged in personal study," Carson announced raising his glass to Rodney.

John was still smiling. "All of a sudden, I'm feeling like an expert," he said. "Test out a certain way and you get advanced stuff." He shrugged a little. "I tested out that way. It's... part of the training."

Because apparently all soldiers needed to be ready to be sexual toys, and Rodney was going to try to not think of that. "If you test *any* way, they'll give more training in it. My sister was, she was just as smart as me and she tested high in personals, and poof. She's a Personal. It'd be nice if people had a choice."

"I thought you did get a choice?" Carson said. "And Personals are very well thought of..."

John nodded. "Pretty much all the ranks defer to them. They have some on staff for interrogation. You never met them at the SGC?"

Radek looked alarmed. "I don't think we have those here."

"Personals?" Rodney lifted his head and peered over at Radek. "They're people that... they train them to be very sensual. And serving and my *genius* sister ended up one, with a sole owner and just ugh. The man's an ass, too."

"Must be rich," John replied smiling. "To rate a Personal."

"We are having them, but not with the Imperial forces," Radek said. "Too expensive for most Houses."

"They are missing out then," John replied. "Pretty big bit of training, and useful too. And a lot of it pretty fun." He gave a half grin at Rodney even as Carson obviously tried to recover from the mental images that he was obviously conjuring up.

Rodney had a little trouble with it, too. "I bet it was fun. I keep thinking of it as a big hot muscled imperials orgy."

John snorted and nearly choked on his scotch. "Boy you guys really have the wrong idea huh?" He paused a moment and then grinned. "Maybe a couple of those..."

Carson groaned. "That's not fair John."

"Sure it is." John replied. "After what you two've been up to, I'm entitled. Besides, it's not as impressive as all that. We get tested out for tendencies, taught some of the good stuff and then if you go into officer training, or special mission status, then you get practicals on adapting Personal stuff into survival and torture resistance."

"And probably interrogations," Rodney half suggested, half asked. "So, what tendencies get tested out?"

"How well you deal with dominant and submissive stuff," John said, stretching again. "How good you are with different type of relationships, how far you'll go and for what. Problem solving, team-building. Sexual tolerances. That sort of thing." 

"It still sounds pretty extreme," Carson said.

John shrugged. "Statistics show that Imperials who been through it all don't break if caught, and tend to escape or have successful missions. Occasionally it backfires, but..."

"One backfire is worth a hundred people that make it back?" And with them in contact with alien races, species that wanted them all dead, they needed people with every kind of training known to man. Rodney stretched his legs out. "So, you're hot, your DNA is fantastic, and you're well trained. Why are you still single?"

John looked at him for a moment before taking another drink. "I don't know. Maybe I'm a world-class pain in the ass..."

"Don't be ridiculous John," Carson said.

"Yes, we are already having one of those," Radek pointed out blandly.

"Okay, then it's probably the uh, let's see if I can remember the wording. 'Intense self-destructive psychological trait' that undermines interactions with others," John replied and his smile was looking a little bit forced now.

"Pffft." Rodney waved his free hand at John. "I'm petty, arrogant, and bad with people, according to Sam Carter. Not that she's that great a catch since she won't even admit when she's *wrong*, but that psycho-mumbo jumbo bullshit is just... bullshit."

John just shrugged his shoulders a little again. "It's in my record. Plenty of people don't think it's bullshit. Enough of the people who count anyway. I had a CO who called me a suicide mission in progress."

"That's... bloody terrible," Carson sounded horrified. "You shouldn't stand for that."

"None of our Imperials would allow that," Radek said. "Sad though it is to say there is something good out our forces."

"Yeah, that's kind of depressing. You're the furthest from a suicide mission in progress that I've met. And I think I met a few with the SGC. You can see them coming, I swear it. Huge guys who're a little too happy about their guns and they just run into the, the, well."

"Yeah, well. That all got a bit more serious there, huh? When we get back to the States, I am going to make sure you all go to the Personals for a weekend. It's something you should try...really."

"I'm uh..." Rodney cleared his throat, and scooted down again. "How, what’s that like? Out of curiosity."

Carson chuckled. "I'm with Rodney on this. Whole new world out there."

John contemplated. "Pretty cool. I'm a switch apparently, which I guess is code for I don't really care what goes on as long as sex happens. Not sure if Rodney would like the being tied up thing...but I'm pretty sure he'd really like doing the tying. And Carson...I reckon you might like a bit of both. Can't see either of you being into the pain stuff."

"No, no -- heh, no, pain is about as good-sounding as having live ferrets dropped down my pants." Rodney leaned forwards to get the scotch for another glass. "You know, somewhere in the world there's someone who probably gets hot and bothered over *that*, too."

"The Personals would work that out for you," John said. "They get you in there, ask you some questions, test out a few reactions, next thing you know, they are telling you what most turns you on."

"It sounds pretty appealing but..." Carson hesitated.

John grinned, "I'll come along as your test-body if you want."

He supposed he should have been miffed that John was flirting so obviously with Carson, except Rodney wasn't. He didn't *own* Carson and they hadn't married and they'd only *just* started out, if Rodney was honest, and John was very very good looking.

"Wait, I think most of us knows what turns us on already."

"Breasts," said Zelenka from where he had slumped in his chair and Rodney had wondered if he had fallen asleep.

"Trust me Rodney, you won't've even considered half of the things they'd come up with for you," John said giving him a look that made Rodney wonder what he was visualising just then. "But go on then. What turns you on?"

"Breasts," Rodney laughed a little. "And cocks, and brains, and unfortunately dumb blonds. My last Imperial, Lorne? I know he was conventionally *good* looking, but he wasn't a turn-on." Mostly because he hadn't liked Rodney.

Carson looked worried. "But I'm not blond and I don't have breasts..."

John gave a smile. "And he doesn't like Imperials. That's me out on pretty much all counts.”

Carson looked at him again. "You should be sleeping with Zelenka!" he announced.

Radek's eyes opened wide, as if he had been sobered up rapidly. "What?"

Rodney craned his head to peer over at Radek. "Too scrawny. Don't worry, Radek, I'm not interested in your ass."

"Thank god," Zelenka said with great relief.

"So you're not interested then?" John asked Rodney. "I thought you were the... experimenter." Okay, John seemed to be giving him looks as well which was weird.

Rodney shrugged his shoulders. "I experiment. Just... not with completely straight guys. The outcome is usually pretty disappointing."

"Well, John's obviously not completely straight," Carson pointed out helpfully. "I just get a wee bit self-conscious about it all. Alcohol usually gets my inhibitions down enough to do something."

"Well, you seem to be doing okay with Rodney," John put in.

"Aye, well Rodney is special," Carson said, smiling happily at him.

It would have been nice if Rodney couldn't have felt his face flush bright red when Carson said that. "I, uh. Huh. I'm special?"

"Of course you are," Carson said. "Isn't he John?"

He half expected John to make some flippant mildly offensive remark, but he didn't. Instead he just nodded slowly and gave him a smile and a look that really shouldn't be allowed on the grounds of public indecency.

Rodney was pretty sure that the red tint as chasing down his neck and underneath of his clothes. He smirked a little, and finished off his fresh drink. "Okay, I'm going to have to take your word. Words. On it."

Carson nodded. "You look pretty good when you're blushing too," he declared. "Makes me want to see how far down that blush actually goes."

With that, he was struggling to get up to make an uneven way over towards him. "Oops, sorry John."

"No problem. Most fun I've had all day," John drawled as Carson stopped groping him for balance.

"So Carson beats out ancient devices?" If that was true then the devices were either overrated or John's sex life was worse than Rodney's had been. "Wow. Maybe I don't want gene therapy, after all."

"Well so far the device hasn't groped me. If it does, things might be different." John looked at the device he pulled out of his pocket . It lit up and cracked open. "It kinda sings in the back of my head. It's pretty cool."

Carson had managed to make it over to him and decide trying to sit with his arm around him was a good bet. Pretty cool would be how John would describe the greatest technological advances they had access to. Rodney shifted, slid his arm over Carson's waist, and shook his head. "It sings in your head. You know that when we get back the sgc will never let you leave. Ever. You're, you'd be amazing to them."

"That'd be a first," John said and seemed to be concentrating a little even as there was a beep and a tiny version of himself and Carson appear, projected holographically in front of John. "Wow. Anyone else having Star Wars flash backs?"

Rodney turned his head and laughed against Carson's neck. "I don't feel like princess Leia... Hey, if you think about Radek, will it project the sofa?"

John seemed to concentrate, and there was Radek, at first floating midair on his own, and then as John closed his eyes, more and more detail crept in. First the sofa in a ghostly white then a miniature of the room and then in relative space, the holograms of them again.

"It's like a mini radar resonance scanner," John said and glanced over just as Carson was starting to kiss the side of Rodney's neck in earnest. He pushed himself up awkwardly. "Looks like it's time to take Radek home before you guys corrupt him."

"Umph, probably. Carson..." Rodney twisted a little, pushing gently at Carson. "You can't take him back by yourself. You're still all beat up.

"He can sleep over in my room. It's practically next door," John said seeming to ignore the comment as he reached to lift Radek by one arm.

Carson hurried to help with the other. "Won't be a moment love," he said absently. "You just...hold that thought. I'll be back soon."

"Sure, I'll just..." Sitting there and drinking a little more seemed like a good idea, or at least a bearable idea. They were all going to cart Radek up, and by 'all' Rodney meant both of them, and it was only to John's quarters, but still.

"I'll just hang out until you get back."

Carson smiled at him again as they took Radek out of his apartment and he had to sit there alone wondering if maybe Carson wouldn't come back, because there had been a lot of flirting and John was incredibly hot and it wasn't like he would blame him because there probably had to be something wrong with the man if he had a choice to come back to him, because yeah, it would be stupid and...

He hadn't even noticed when Carson came back in. Only at the point where he heard the murmur of "Now where were we?" in his ear and warmth against his neck, and fingers in his hair.

Somehow that was a lot more miraculous than any ancient technology.

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

* * *

John liked to take a patrol around the base when he could. If nothing else it kept the Russian's hopping and that amused him now he could actually walk and move sensibly. Their counter challenge tactic had work. After about five pretty easy wins, miraculously people's tolerances improved dramatically and he spent the next couple of weeks not really having to do a lot.

Sometimes he'd sit in with Rodney and Zelenka, or visit Carson down in the Infirmary if he wanted more blood. He'd seen Idos a few more times and then he'd been on a mission for nearly a week now. He was willing to bet that it was the covert one.

Anyway, he had their various escape plans organised, for the moment the Russians signed off on the generator, which would be shortly. Some of the other scientists had started building their own from Zelenka's notes, apparently trusting them where they didn't trust Rodney.

Evening were pretty okay. They watched DVD's, or did something pretty often and he'd leave before things got too indecent.

Which was also pretty okay. Rodney always seemed a little stunned, a little in awe of the fact that Carson settled beside him on the sofa and started to stroke Rodney's thigh. It was amusing to watch, the nervous way that Rodney would glance at John and then back to Carson before he started to reciprocate. Bad DvD night should not have ended in leaving to go to his own apartment with a raging hard-on.

It generally did though, and John wasn't sure if it was the mere fact that he felt like compared to them his experience was somehow worthless compared to what they had, but whatever it was he didn't push in. Not his style.

Sometimes though, he really wished it was.

Because Carson was attracted to him, pretty obviously, and Rodney ran hot and cold where he ran flat out cold for almost everyone else he worked with. Radek seemed to be the exception. But it meant that if John had been the kind of guy to do it, he could have weaselled in on them and probably had a great time.

But he wasn't going to. He was going to be a good imperial and be a presence that kept people from challenging Rodney and Carson. Finally it seemed to be working. Which he wasn't too sorry about because of the lack of pain and that was amazing in itself.

It also meant he was bored. John spent time secretly figuring out the device and when he tried Idos one time, it showed him the stargate before he got a headache trying to push it to find symbols. He wasn't sure if it could, but it seemed to have a way of tracking last known movements.

He heard a crackle in his radio mike and tapped at it, frowning. "Rodney? Carson? Was that you?"

"Holy shit, holy shit -- Sheppard? Sheppard, is that you? Tell me that you can hear me..."

"Rodney? I hear you..." He went automatically on alert. "What's wrong? What's happened.....where are you?"

"I'm hiding in a closet." He could hear Rodney gulp in a breath of air. "Kolya challenged me and it's a RIGHT now thing, and it's either forfeit or, hah, hide in a closet because I *cannot* fight the huge guy that's here. I, I apparently have been sabotaging projects? At least, that's what he's accusing me of."

"Jesus...what the hell brought this on?" John said starting to jog towards the labs. "I'm on my way...a huge guy? Imperial?"

He had a horrible feeling they had just been blindsided.

"I, I guess? I mean, scary as hell, with a collar on his neck. I think he brought in a real fighter, and I'm going to try to contact Carson because if they find me in this closet I'm going to need medical care."

"You get Carson, you get him to get you out of there. Make for the vehicle depot. There's a transport fuelled and ready, with emergency supplies and papers. You both get in it and drive south okay? If I win, I'll call.." He snuck a quick look at the locator, finding Rodney and seeing how close Kolya was. "I'm going to intercept him now."

"Sure, I'll, yeah. Good luck, John. Good luck." Rodney's voice was shaking, and that was a bad sign. They needed to get out of there, because challenges like that were huge problems.

Kolya had suddenly taken the gloves off and John wasn't ready for it. Or he was, but he'd hoped to be out of here before it all went so wrong.

He jogged around the corner and there they were, still hunting. "General Kolya. I understand there has been a Challenge issued." And holy fucking crap that guy was massive.

Muscles on top of his damn muscles massive, enough to make John note that he was definitely a fighter. A real Fighter, the kind of guy who fought life and death challenges and won. Kolya turned on his heel, and smiled at John. "Yes, there has. Are you here to proxy for Doctor McKay?"

"Well, yes. Although I was kinda wondering if there were terms of negotiation that might avoid a formal challenge," John said reasonably. Longer he talked, the longer Carson had to get Rodney away.

"Given the setbacks we have suffered because of Doctor McKay, we would take his permanent service as payment." Kolya eyes were hard, stony, and he had the posture that Kolya expected with generals.

"And you know you can't do that," John said reasonably. "Because his House is not even affiliated within the Russian Empire. This is an illegal challenge, and you know it." Which meant fighting was going to occur but it wasn't going to be a challenge fight.

"There is nothing illegal about it. Doctor McKay is houseless, and he will owe us an impossible to service debt for the damage he has caused."

"Dr McKay is contracted to the US Imperials. They own his contract, *especially* when it comes to issue of contractual breach." John was glad he looked this up. "You should be contacting them and asking for compensation for this so called damage, which we both know doesn't exist General." He squared off in front of Kolya. "We all know you have another agenda, so cut the crap. It's illegal but it suits you to pretend otherwise. That's why you have the big guy Fighter here because you don't want to take chances. So this is very important to you..."

“Are you going to answer the terms of the challenge, or should I drag Doctor McKay out of that closet," and he pointed to where Rodney was probably still hiding, "and demand recompense for his lies about the power systems myself?"

John was sincerely hoping that Rodney had managed to get himself out of that closet by now. "I'll answer the terms of the Challenge and I act as proxy. Shall we go to the Challenge Hall?" Maybe he could delay long enough, or something. This sort of level of challenge could mean anything went. Put him and the other guy in the wilderness and he might make it, he was good at that. In a Challenge scenario, the fighter outmassed him. Logic said he should forfeit immediately, but he had a feeling they wouldn't accept a forfeit from him.

"No. I want this dealt with here and no, before you or Doctor McKay try any type of deceit. Vasily." Kolya stepped backwards, and gestured to the fighter. 

Holy crap. Fighting in a lab was not going to be easy, though he could subscribed to the hurling furniture school of self defence. He dropped into a ready crouch, using his comparative speed to evade the first few test swings. He managed to stop one punch with a chair which rather ominously snapped as Vasily hit it.

That was never a good sign. There was training, and survival tactics, and then there was realising that he didn't have the bag of tricks to handle a juggernaut like that in a lab where the only weapons he had were furniture. Vasily took a swing as his head, and it left John only vaguely aware of the sound of a door opening.

"What the bloody hell is going on?!"

Shit, Carson hadn't made it here before he had. Which meant Rodney was in the cupboard and he had to try and win this thing. Which he'd been intending to attempt but realism forced him to face facts. 

He twisted off part of the metal frame of the chair and hit at the Fighter hard. He barely seemed to noticed it, just grabbed it and twisted out of John's hands and he had to duck and roll.

There was no way he was going to topple the guy. John knew his best chance was to get him in the crotch and then just wail at his head until he fell over, if he even *got* that opportunity. "Knock it off! This is a laboratory facility, not a fighting ring!"

Vasily the Fighter just grinned at him and then he moved so damn fast the next thing John knew he was flying through the air and bouncing off a table. Again, instincts kicked in and he rolled off of it just as the fighter was bringing down the metal chair leg on the surface of it.

He was dimly away of Carson shouting something, and angry sounds from over in the corner but at that point, the Fighter was trying to stab him with the metal bar and he had his work cut out. He connected with a double kick to the guys ankle and he managed, wonder of wonders, to get him over and down and then John made the mistake of trying to dive on him to try and get him unconscious.

Feet in the stomach and a kick, and again he was flying through the air.

It wasn't the same feeling as rappelling down a rope that was hanging from a helicopter, but it had a lot of similarity with the moment when the rope started to get some twist, some spin, and slammed him up against a wall, because John hit the wall and fell down onto the floor, breathing hard while the fighter came up over top of him again. Fuck, he was screwed. He was so screwed...

He heard Kolya shout something in Russian, and knew it was some equivalent of ‘take him out’. He heard Carson's protest suddenly silenced and thought he could hear Rodney, but he trying hard to knee the guy in the groin and punch the crap out of his face and it wasn't working very well. Some sort of protector on down there and he punched and John could see stars. Under the ribs, and he twisted trying to wriggle out and felt the kidney punch in his lower back over and over as he tried to get up.

He swung around with his elbow getting a satisfying crunch in the other Fighters face and then a bloom of blood from his nose, and then tried to beat him down with another chair. Only he couldn't seem to swing and crap, the guy was really pissed now.

He wasn't even sure what happened next. One minute scraping on the floor, the next he was flying across the lab and he could see the wall he was going to hit this time and there was nothing to do but to twist so he didn't hit face first at impact and after that, he didn't feel anything.

* * *

This was not good. This was not not good. 

Any time when Rodney saw Kolya coming at him, and then he woke up with his wrists bound and his eyes blindfolded, was not a good thing. He'd been taught a little about kidnapping, because it sometimes happened to Freemen, but he had a feeling that he wasn't going to be in the trunk of a car when he worked the blindfold off.

It was bad enough that he'd seen Carson sprawled out on the floor, unconscious, and that gorilla of a fighter tossing John around until he'd thrown him so hard at the wall, he wasn't sure that he'd even *survived* let alone been getting up. Stupid, they'd been stupid. Thought they were outsmarting them all, sneaking in under the radar and he was sure he could hear someone in the room wherever he was.

He twisted, struggling and rubbing his wrists together as he tried to stretch the ropes. His cheek rubbed against some kind of fabric, and he pressed his temple down against it to try to roll the handkerchief off. "Hello? Hello, this isn't funny, and it's definitely not legal. Hello?"

"I wouldn't do that Dr McKay," a familiar voice drawled. "You might fall off the bed. And that would be a shame."

Kolya. It had to be. He could imagine him there. And there were footsteps coming closer.

"What, you don't want your shiny new hostage hurting himself? Huh?" Rodney squirmed again, twisting and rubbing his temple down to just, ahah, he had a sliver of light that he could see now, just a little more and he'd at least be able to see.

"Well, I was thinking more about the trouble of having to pick you up again," Kolya replied and he could feel him lean closer. "You are not a hostage Dr McKay, because that would imply I was willing to let you go. You belong to us now. And no one is going to come for you, find you. As far as the US Empire is concerned, you will vanish in a tragic accident. I have you like this to impress upon you the fact that you are helpless, vulnerable and your best course of action will be cooperation."

Rodney went still for a moment, because that was *really* a lie. He was too important to the Empire to have the Russian empire run off with him. "Where's Sheppard? Where's Doctor Beckett?"

"Neither of them in a position to help you, and even if they were....they wouldn't be able to find you. You are in a very secure facility Dr McKay. One known to very few people in the Imperial service or House Kolya." A hand reached over and tweaked down the blindfold again. "I think I prefer you in the dark."

Son of a bitch. Rodney jerked, twisting his wrists again. "Why are you doing this?" It was a pretty obvious answer, but Rodney wanted to hear it, wanted to be sure that he was there because he was useful.

"Because I need you for a specific mission," Kolya replied and his hand was suddenly there, resting on him. "Because despite your arrogance you have ability."

He was going to pretend that he couldn't really feel the heavy hand on his shoulder. "I'm arrogant for a *reason*, General. Of course I have ability -- do you think that I'd be a freeman if I didn't?"

"*Was* a freeman," Kolya replied. "Start getting used to it. 28 days, and you are mine even by your laws. But we don't have to wait. And you need to remember you are at my mercy."

Rodney closed his eyes behind the blindfold. Think, think, he needed to think, he needed to outthink the man. "Hey, I don't think well if I'm uncomfortable or hurt -- if you want my brains, you need to keep me in one piece!"

"There are plenty of things I can do to you that won't harm you," Kolya replied smoothly. "Although there might be some of that depending on your behaviour." That hand was smoothing down over his ass. "Your Imperials get trained in this. Perhaps you should be too."

"I'm, I'm no good at it. At all, irredeemable, I'm wood grade and they gave up on me, I mean, you name it, I can do it wrong, so that's probably a pretty bad idea..." And he was babbling, Rodney knew it, but he was desperate because in 28 days he *was* owned and that was the worst thing that could happen to a freeman.

"Well that's the beauty of this particular approach," Kolya said. "There is little you can do wrong, because you will not be moving, or able to move and if you get loud I will gag you. You might even find it...enjoyable. Eventually."

And that hand was pulling at his pants insistently.

"No, nonononono, this is a bad idea, a horrible idea, I am *not* a bottom and I don't even find you attractive -- not that you're a bad looking guy, but you're not my type..." Rodney twisted, trying to jerk his hips away from that hand. 

"Oh, I wasn't going to do anything to you myself. Directly," Kolya said. "But I did say a couple of my Imperials could drop in when they came off their shift. So I just thought I'd make sure you were...ready. They tend to get a bit rough."

Rodney wasn't sure if that was worse. Kolya was going to leave him here knowing he was going to be raped even if it wasn't him himself.

He apparently wasn't a man to get his hands dirty, but let others do it for him. Rodney twisted again, but Kolya had the zipper down and was sliding his hand into Rodney's pants for a moment to squeeze him through his underwear. "What's the *point*?"

"I think...'because I can' sums it up," Kolya replied. "And I want you to remember what I can do to you without any form of comeback, if you decide to be awkward."

If this was what the major had been talking about he was not seeing the good side of it. He wasn't feeling anything except painfully exposed and...oh god, his hands were on his skin, and he didn't want him touching him *there*. He didn't want the general's hands rubbing over his dick, playing with his balls momentarily before he pulled his hands back and started to pull Rodney's pants and underwear down. "What makes you think that this is going to make me *more* cooperative?"

"Let's just say that with your record, improvement is pretty much the only option," Kolya said. "Hmm. Interesting. Well, I've seen worse. Let’s just put this on."

And oh god, he was tying things around his cock. And sticking something onto his balls and...this was very very wrong.

"*Interesting*?" There was absolutely nothing interesting about his genitalia, and Rodney didn't want to know what Kolya was attaching to his balls, but he had a feeling that if he tried to kick the man he was going to regret it. As it was, he was laying on his tied together hands and he was losing feeling in his arms.

"Yes. I can see the attraction. Perhaps if Dr Beckett hadn't been...well, I'm sure he would've enjoyed this. Major Sheppard definitely from what I've heard," Kolya leaned in and, there was a touch of cold sharp metal as he cut off the button on his shirt. 

More sticky things pressed onto his torso, and then over his nipples which embarrassed him by going pebble hard. Rodney tried to squirm away again, swallowing. "You don't have to *cut* my clothes off." And Doctor Beckett what? Because he'd started to say something about Carson, and then he’d stopped. Not that Carson could help Rodney out when Kolya was putting sticky things to his chest.

"Well, you won't have to worry about him anymore. Or Major Sheppard. It is fortunate that Siberia is so dangerous a place," Kolya murmured and then insistently rolled him over onto his front, moving down to his ankle and pulling at the knots there.

"You killed them." Rodney said the words before he'd even thought them all the way through. "You, you killed them? Why? You -- what kind of *idiot* are you? They're geneholders! You could have, you didn't have to..."

"Well, it wasn't entirely intended," Kolya replied quietly. "At least not for Dr Beckett. But, we have to deal with the fact things do not work out the way we plan." His ankles were dragged to each side of the bed and one tied efficiently and then to the other, spread eagling him. What clothes Kolya had forgotten to remove were cut off. Then he was up to take control of his hands.

He cut the bindings, and Rodney only fought a little, because Carson was dead? And if Carson was dead and John was dead then he, there really wasn't anyone who was going to be looking for him. "Apparently you fucked things up, huh? And you think the Empire won't do anything?"

"Well they might *try*. Twenty eight days and if necessary a galaxy to hide you in," Kolya said calmly and his hands were tied in a comfortable if firm spread-eagle. "Much better. Now for the last thing." 

He had moved to sitting back half way down the bed, and that hand was on his ass, naked ass again and something cold and slippery dropping onto his skin.

Carson and John were dead. Rodney closed his eyes more tightly, and it didn't matter that he was face down on a mattress and that Kolya was probably going to lube his ass up for those imperials he'd mentioned. It didn't matter, because Carson was one of his *few* friends and John had started to become a friend and, and, now they were dead.

And he had a sneaking suspicion they wouldn't've been if not for him. Carson, Carson trying to get him to safety and Russian Imperial hitting him on the back of the head with his gun. And John, the idiot had to know he couldn't win. Why didn't he just let him be taken? Maybe there was something to that self-destructive trait after all.

But why? Why for him?

And there was more than lube there, there was a pressure and something pushing in insistently.

He tucked his head down, biting his bottom lip when it pushed in. Fuck. Carson was dead and John was dead so maybe he had it coming. Because it didn't make sense to him why they'd do that for him, and he'd just tried to hide in the closet, and he should have been brave and just given up.

He'd thought he could cope with things like the minor forfeit but this was something different and no one was coming. Kolya didn't stop until it was pretty much all the way in. "There. That should keep you occupied. A little bit of Russian ingenuity and these things will act on a random remote. Different strengths, different durations. I understand it is...quite frustrating. By the time the Imperials get here, you will probably welcome them."

"I'm going to make you regret this," Rodney murmured quietly. He tried to not move, because ever shift of his body had his ass tighten around the vibrator, and he guessed that was what it was.

"Perhaps." But Kolya didn't sound anything apart from amused. "Enjoy your wait Dr McKay." And then all he could hear was someone walking away, and the door closing and then silence.

It was awkward and not really uncomfortable but...

There was a faint pulsing tingle over his stomach. Then a pause, and more on his chest. Nothing then for a while and then an almost too much of one on his balls that had him gasping, before the vibrator finally hummed into life.

Oh fuck. Fuck, clearly if they were as innovative and creative in science as they were in god-damned *torture*, the Russian empire could have ruled the planet. Rodney pulled at the ropes, and rocked his hips against the mattress, trying to move it inside of him.

No luck there, at least not before it stopped and there was a period of nothing before it all started again. Longer, more intense, unpredictable bursts of sensation that made it impossible to think of anything coherent. He had no idea how long he was going to be here like this but it was already too long.

It ran in cycles like that, bursts of sensation that were almost enough but not enough, and it left Rodney wondering when those soldiers would get there already and put an end to his misery. If they were going to come in and fuck him, they might as well get it over with before the vibrator drove him insane. It was a good thing that he'd been having sex recently, or it would have left him stretched too far and aching already.

It was a bad thing that he thought about that recent sex, about Carson, and that either he was dead or wounded and he *thought* Rodney was dead, probably, and he was sure Kolya would keep him on the move, hidden, until 28 days had passed.

He wasn't sure how long he was left there, but he did hear someone open the door, and then just not close it. There were people walking around out there and he was tied to this bed, vibrator in his ass and quivering every time there was a tingle and that was... just a million times worse than being locked in a room like that.

And then he felt like shit for worrying about that when he'd got Carson killed. And John. Who knows, maybe they knew about Zelenka as well and that would pretty much mean everyone who had ever seemed to tolerate him or even like him for more than a few minutes was gone. Dead. He was trying for a little perspective. It wasn't working.

The fact that his friends were *dead* didn't exactly make his own situation any better. It just meant that he was really fucked, that no-one was coming for him because his *friends* were *dead*. And someone was in the room with him and the doorway was open. Rodney closed his eyes, pressing his face against the mattress, against the blindfold. It was better that way. He didn't want to see what was going on.

There was a voice saying something in Russian, commenting in an amused tone to someone else who just grunted back in agreement. His brain started trying to supply a vague translation, but somehow he was pretty sure his version of 'wow, look at the ass there! That's incredible' had some distance from the truth.

Then there was a hand on his back, the size and shape of it feeling familiar even as someone called something out from the doorway and there was a group laugh before the man next to him said something that might've been Russian for 'Fuck Off'. 

Rodney shifted his hips, pressing them down against the mattress to get away from that hand, and oh, fuck fuck, the vibrator went off just then, making his hips jerk convulsively and that was not the reaction he wanted to be having when anyone was watching.

The unknown voice chided him and then the vibrator was moving, someone obviously teasing him with it, and in no particular hurry to do much more except there were hands also running up the inside of his spread legs and he wasn't sure if he really liked that because he really wanted to pull them closed but it tugged at his ankles....

They could be doing worse. He wasn't sure what they could be doing because after conversations with John it became very apparent when it came to sex he was rather embarrassingly at the back of the class and he did what he usually did with things he wasn't good at. He usually ignored them until they went away. This was *not* going away.

And it wasn't something he wanted to learn more about. He liked his somewhat interesting blowjobs and he liked slow or fast sex, but it was sex and exploring and face down spreadeagled on a mattress was neither. "Stop, stop, please stop... Nyet!" Hah, god of all the times for him to try Russian.

That got nothing but laughter and a stinging slap on his ass, even as one of the more familiar hands slipped underneath his body and a callused thumb rubbed over head of his constrained cock, and then there was an emptiness in his ass, and then a weight and warmth of a mainly clothed body on top of him, pushing in on him even as that thumb moved slowly over sensitive skin.

Right in with hardly any pause. Rodney bit his bottom lip, and groaned, trying to keep himself still even with the man pushing into him. His dick was too thick for Rodney's preference, and he didn't stop and start the way Carson did and the way Rodney usually *asked* people to do. 

At least with Carson if he asked he would...

No. Present tense. There was going to be no asking again, just strangers doing whatever the hell they liked apparently without any regard for anything and *fuck* what was the man's hurry? Wasn't like there was something to rush off for in Siberia. But no, he was going at his ass like he was on the clock and had to get a job done.

It couldn't be *that* bad, could it? Rodney pulled at the restraints at his wrists, and tightened his muscles, trying to fight against the man because laying there was getting too much motion with too little lube, like he was just a hole to fuck. He might as well have been a sock for the way the man was pummelling him.

It made him pay more attention to the hand gripping his cock and slowly fisting at it because at least there it seemed like someone was paying a vague form of attention. It was hard not to respond to fingers on his cock, pumping carefully up and down, wrapping around the crown and then back down, squeezing occasionally. He wished it didn't feel as good as it did.

Because that just had to be wrong that some part of him was getting off on being tied up and raped, and hey there was a part of him that considered he ought to be fighting to the death over this because wasn't that what Freemen did? Imperials? He'd seen movies where the manly heroic idiot did everything but submit and...

That wasn't John was it? No, no of course not, John had been the other way. And that at the same time. Only he was last seen head first into a wall.

How much longer? How much more? He had a suddenly rather hysterical urge to ask if they were nearly there yet because this was so incredibly surreal. Fast and detached, like he wasn't even worth fucking, which made Rodney want to demand why they were doing it in the first place because it wasn't breaking him, no, no, it wasn't going to make him cooperative at all.

Someone was laughing from the doorway.

He didn't like the thought he was some sort of public spectacle, that anyone could be just standing there watching and just great. The guy seemed to be turned on by the audience and things became a little less mechanical and he really hoped there was no diseases because he wasn't using a condom and oh crap... there...there he went. Flush of vague warmth inside of him.

Done, finished, and Rodney wasn't. He breathed hard, pulling at his wrists again while the clothed hips started to pull away from him, and god-damn, that cock was pulling out. Finally.

There was moment of cold metal too close to his cock, and the tightness there released with a rush of sensation that had him dizzy, out of control as that hand moved hard and firm on his traitorous erection.

Fine. He wanted Rodney to come, Rodney would come already. He'd get it over with and maybe if he came, they'd leave him alone. He was going to pretend he couldn't hear people chatting, pretend that he couldn't understand them anymore than he already couldn't.

He didn't bother to hold back, and it was the strangest feeling he'd ever had, to come while being angry. No, more than angry. Furious. Maybe he was meant to be cowed, traumatised but he wasn't right now. He was angry enough to fight at the ties even as he came all over that rough unknown hand.

Yeah right. Of course it was Kolya.

It seemed like him to want to be there, to want to be the one humiliating Rodney, and he just wasn't going to let it happen. He wasn't going to be cowed, because his friends were dead -- what did anything matter now that they were dead and no-one was coming for him.

"Fuck you all, fuck, fuck every last one of you..."

"If you really want to fuck every last one of us that can be arranged Dr McKay," Kolya's voice said in a mocking tone. "Most of them are out there waiting. All I have to do is give them permission....is that what you want?"

Rodney sucked in a few breaths, and jerked at his wrists again. "Doesn't matter, does it? You think this is going to break me down, and it's not, no, no, it's not."

Kolya gave a small laugh. "You really think this was anything serious? Dr McKay, people do a lot worse than that for their own pleasure. Think of it as an exercise in what we could've done. You are an intelligent man, I'm sure you have an imagination."

"Plenty." Except that he wasn't willing to stretch it in that kind of direction. He wasn't going to say anything or bait Kolya further, not yet.

“Then you should be able to imagine the virtues of cooperation," Kolya replied getting up. "That position should be suitable for deep thinking. Have a pleasant rest Dr McKay."

Rest. There was no way he'd be able to rest like that, and Kolya knew it, had to know it. Rodney would just lay there and stew and fear that someone would walk in and take advantage of his readied state. Which was probably what Kolya wanted to have happen.

He didn't even bother to shut the door and he was stuck there, sore, angry and a little afraid even if he knew they didn't want him incapacitated, non-functioning. But there were plenty of things they could do that would fall between the lines.

And knowing him, he'd think about every single one of them before they would let him out of here.

* * *

What amazed Carson, when he had actually managed to come around enough to focus, was that Kolya had just left him there. Them there. Him sprawled out on the floor of the lab, and John crashed over some equipment, next to a bloody smear on the wall that looked like he'd hit it hard. He'd tried frantically to radio Rodney, though that wasn't successful with a concussion stirring things up.

After he'd worked out John wasn't dead, and he was concussed, he radioed the Infirmary and got the pair of them taken in. What else could he do?

Aside from begrudge the *exceptionally* long period of time that John was unconscious, and Rodney presumably got further and further away.

John had been pretty badly hurt though, the fighter tossing him around like a rag doll, although John seemed to have perfected the art of falling into things without breaking anything. He had a fracture in his cheekbone but amazingly not his head and possibly on in his ribs. No protruding bits of bones, although he was pretty sure there was some kidney damage as well. All too much.

It was enough to keep him unconscious while Carson sat and stewed and decided that as soon as John was better they needed to get out of there and fast. Taking Radek with them wasn't possible just then, not without Rodney, because it wasn't a simple case of trading one scientist for another as if the American Empire wouldn't care.

They could've killed them, or taken them as well, but perhaps one accident would be enough to stretch their credulity. His head was killing him and he still didn't know why John had done that. He had to know he wasn't going to win. But he did that for Rodney, or at least tried. It was just bloody nuts. 

He wondered where Rodney was; he'd tried the device but couldn't make it focus and he desperately wanted to know if he was alive. If he was well. If he was scared.

It almost went without saying that Rodney would be scared, at least a little scared. He wasn't particularly the bravest man Rodney knew, and that left Carson wondering how he'd cope with being kidnapped. Because no matter how Rodney blustered, even having to give minor service for a challenge had unsettled him.

Which meant that they needed to find him as soon as John was conscious.

Carson wished he was brave enough, or competent enough to go himself. Alone. But he knew his limitations. He didn't know where to start. He knew how to heal, to care for others and that was his purpose but he found himself stuck at the first hurdle of working out where Rodney had been taken.

He buried his head in his hands, trying to press the headache away and wondering why he was such a bloody coward. He hated gate travel, hated most of the threats they came face to face with. Even *Rodney* got excited about them, sometimes, and he certainly liked the company of the Asgardians that'd met, while Carson... hadn't. Two different types of cowards, then, and one unconscious imperial. 

John, who seemed to have gone to the other extreme of bravery to the point where it became something a little like idiocy. He wasn't sure he wanted to be like that either but the fact remained he needed him. They'd both really needed him.

There was a faint rustle of movement in the bed and he looked up hopefully. "'arson?" John’s eyes weren't open yet, but one of his hands was pulling at the sheets, trying to fight free.

"Easy, easy John," Carson murmured. "You're a wee bit battered. Here..." He helped by find that hand and taking hold of it. "I wasn't expecting you to wake up yet."

"Need to get Rodney out of here. Setup...?" It was hard to tell if that was his question or if he had another one, but it didn't matter. John's mouth was lax, and his eyes barely opened to peer at Carson, just a wet glimmer.

"Aye, it was John," Carson said heavily. "A House Fighter, one of their top fighters. A whole group of Imperials around where Rodney was. They knocked me out and I woke up there with you in a heap. They've taken him. General Kolya has."

"Kolya?" John started to struggle to sit up, opening his eyes a little more. "Took McKay. Need to get him back, we..."

"I know, I know, but you aren't going anywhere John," he said trying to make his tone light. "All that hard work healing up all undone. You took a fair pounding from that hulking giant."

"Drug me up, 'n. We need to get 'm back, and get back home. Breach of, serious breach of all our contracts..."

"And you thing I'm some sort of horse doctor, who'll shoot you full of drugs so you can make it to the finish line?" Carson said a little horrified and amazed that John was thinking about this. "Major, we're pretty isolated here. Surrounded by Russians."

"Who want to make us their slaves, I'm thinking," John pointed out, and it would have been a very good argument for Carson to listen to if it hadn't been slurred.

"John, you're probably concussed, once again you are black and blue and there might even be a wee bit of kidney damage," Carson said wincing as John's grip on his hand tightened, and dear god, he was thinking about it. Thinking about what he could give him to make this work because he wanted Rodney. Needed to know Rodney was safe because he'd stupidly fallen in love and for that he was willing to bend his oaths.

"Means if someone challenges you, you'll..." John's hand tightened again, fingers shifting. "Can't fight. Need to get McKay and *get*."

"John, I have no idea where he is," Carson said in a low voice. He hated himself, he was giving in and he knew it. "I can't work the, uh, device. And I'm sure you won't be able to in your state..."

But he hoped he could.

"Get me out 'f here, and I'll try." And Carson knew that John would. John would try because he was that sort of man. He'd try even if it hurt like hell, and maybe it was bad of Carson to think it, but he was already pondering what he could use to get John to his feet.

"Look, just... just hold on a moment," Carson said. "I've got it here...I'll just pull the curtains, just in case anyone comes in. " It was late though, and everyone else was out of there. He pulled the curtains around and pulled out the scanner. "Here John."

John couldn't even wrap his fingers around it properly to hold it himself, and Carson knew he shouldn't be encouraging the lad. Not then, but he held it for him, steadied it while John wrapped his fingers around part of it, staring at the compact.

It opened, and Carson shifted his fingers to not block that motion, and there was a brief moment where he could *see* Rodney. He was blindfolded, making a jerking motion, and then it was gone, like a static filled lost signal.

He just stared at that patch of air, lost in the image etched in his memory. He *knew* that movement. He...knew what was happening and he didn't for a moment think it was anything consensual. "Rodney..."

And so what if he sounded like someone from a bad TV movie. How could he not do something? Right now. Both of them, right now before there was more of that for Rodney; before he was broken completely. He hated the fact he was choosing one person's welfare over another’s but...

"Do you really think you can do this?"

"Yeah." John swallowed, and handed the compact back to Carson. "Cept we're not close enough to get a lock."

"I can give something to get you moving John," Carson said hesitantly. "If you really think that's what we should do. We don't usually use that sort of drug as they are addictive but if it’s a matter of a day, then there should not be too much in the way of a problem." He hoped. You could never tell who would get hooked immediately. "As a doctor, I have to tell you your own interests would be best served by staying here, you understand?"

"Blah blah blah. I want McKay back. Kinda like to get out of this country, too. And as his friend, you... want him back, too." And Carson couldn't disagree with that, not without John calling him a liar and being right when he said it.

"Yes I do," he agreed. "But that shouldn't be at the expense of you." But he was already moving to get the drugs he would need, and making sure he had spares because if they did take this direct to a skip country, John would need more than one round.

He returned with a syringe. "You really want to do this?"

If he was responsible, he'd just refuse to do it.

"Yeah. What do you need? Signed releases?" John sat up a little more, and he still looked bleary. 'I, John Sheppard, agree to let the doc put whatever in my veins to let me do my job."

"That's good enough," Carson said and took hold of John's arm tapping to try and find a suitable vein and glancing up at John even as he inserted the needle. God, he looked terrible and if it weren't for that split second image of Rodney being assaulted, he wouldn't even think about this.

"There we go. It'll take a few minutes, so I get your gear. Is there anything else we should take with us?"

"Clothes, food, documents. Pack like we're getting out of here, go retrieve McKay's most useful laptop, I guess, or just take the harddrives out..."

Ever since their discussion before, they'd packed an emergency kit and he'd teased Rodney that his packing was a little like a pregnant woman getting a kit ready for hospital, assuming that hospital was in Siberia. It was full of powerbars, clothes, emergency backups. "We packed the essentials when we talked about this. Only the lap top to go and all of it is in my room except the laptop. Have you got things ready?"

"Yeah. Use the master key thing to get it. Pretty obvious, under the bed." John gave a vague gesture, and closed his eyes for a moment.

"You stay there, I'll be back," Carson said. Like John was going anywhere. Still, by the time he got back, the odds were John would be up and mobile so he headed off. 

It was late and there was no one much around and no one even looked at him as he headed upstairs. The masterkey was fantastically useful, and he grabbed his and Rodney's small bags and then went in and pulled the hard drive of the laptop, putting it in one of the antistatic bags before shoving it in his bag. Then onto John's place and it was...strange. John's bedroom and under the bed a slim rucksack, which he peeked into, seeing a gun that was definitely slipped past the Russian Imperials, some complicated looking survival gear, foil pack rations, and it looked like John's life in one small bag.

He'd always noted before that John's room was bland, but everything compressed into that one bag with such ease, and it looked as if John had stripped what little of him had been in that room and shoved it into the bag. It was easy to pick up, and shoulder, easier and lighter than Rodney's. They'd be on their way, soon, and hopefully they could find Rodney and leave quickly.

He headed back down to the infirmary, and before he went over to John again, he raided the place for medical supplies. Rodney might need them; tranquilizers, antibiotics... actually John might need some of those if his kidneys infected. Painkillers, antiseptic, dressings, all he could fit, which was quite a lot.

When he finally returned to John, he was surprise to find him nearly dressed. "I uh...I got it."

"Good." John had to still be in pain, because his voice sounded clipped, impatient. "Need an idea of the general direction he might've been taken in."

Did he look like someone who might know? Still, he tried to think. "Where they have the Stargate in top security? Rodney is a stargate specialist, and I guess they want him for that. They don't give the precise location, but I think it's down somewhere. In the lower levels where we're not allowed to go."

"In the actual building?" John squinted at him, and glanced at the compact again. "He's too far. I can't get a... lock on him."

"That could be your concentration John, "Carson said. "Drugs don't help. On the other hand...for all I know they could have some tunnel system down then and some means of travelling far along. Can you feel anything. You nearly picked him up here, so maybe if we go down a few levels...?"

"Sure." He was probably agreeing because it was a more hopeful statement than the possibility that they'd entirely left the city by ground, because they could be *anywhere*.

Carson took the bags - at least John wouldn't have to put up with that and he might be some use, whether it be packhorse or supplier of drugs. He knew that was going to cause him some sleepless nights if they all got through this, but the point was he was going to have them any way and this was a lesser evil if it worked.

"Let's get going John," he murmured and led them out into the corridor and hopefully towards Rodney. 

It had to work, and Rodney had to think they would try. And succeed.

* * *

John knew he was blaming a lot on the drugs, but then the drugs had a lot to answer for, or the Russians really did model their secret bases after bad adventure movies. They were ridiculously complex to *find* but once they did work out the direction and the entrance, they were able to actually drive there. Underground. Well, Carson had been driving and he had been staring at the flicking in figure of Rodney, urgency carrying him along despite the haze.

He'd figured there would be more Imperials down here, but after they had parked up in what appeared to be some sort of transport bay, sneaking in hadn't been that hard because he had the tracker that warned them exactly where everyone was and he stopped torturing them both with Rodney images, and allowed it to settle to a glowing green dot among a lot of glowing red dots.

Green dot was the good guys, red dots were the bad guys, and that was all John needed to know about the base. He kept Carson behind him, kept him close so nothing went wrong. Nothing *else*. It was slow-going, and John knew he could concentrate better if he wasn't being disrupted by pictures of Rodney. 

He stopped short in a side hallway, and pushed Carson back against the wall as a patrol passed, chatting to each other.

He'd also be doing better if he didn't have the nagging feeling he was going to fall apart the moment the drugs ran out, but there was nothing for it. So far his protection of Rodney and Carson was...well, sucking more than a little.

He was pretty sure he knew what Kolya would be doing. Trying to impress upon Rodney his vulnerability and helplessness. Using sex to do that was one of the easiest ways. He'd been taught that, but Rodney hadn't and shouldn't have had to learn that particular lesson.

He studied the read out. There was always at least two Imperial guarding where Rodney was, but the others had moved away. He could take down two, although he didn't want it to get messy. "Carson?" he asked in a bare whisper. "Did you say you had tranquilizers in your kit?"

"Aye, I did." Carson whispered that back, and he started to dig for them right away, which was handy of him. At least he didn't require prompting over and over against like John had been afraid he would.

He took them. "Let's try an old favourite...tranqs in the coffee." The ghostly schematic from the locator zeroed in on the Guards and showed a coffeepot on the table near the door where he could get to without being seen. He shook out half a dozen of the pills and got a nod from Carson and then crept very carefully, to slip the drugs in the coffee and then return to their secure niche.

"Let's hope they get thirsty," he said settling down.

It was probably going to be a hellishly long wait, and hopefully both men would get their coffees at the same time. There were two guards, and every once in a while, one or the other of them peered into the room where Rodney was. Eventually, one of them nudged the edge and headed towards the coffee pot.

John turned and watched them. And there it was...coffee poured, the pair of them talking in a low voice. He flicked up the scanner. Most activity seemed to be some levels away so they were okay for now. They'd have to be well away before the first check in. "How long?" he whispered to Carson.

"Ten minutes, maybe." Carson almost mouthed the words more than he said them, and he went back to leaning close to the wall, as close as he could while peering anxiously at the compact.

Ten minutes. Okay, now John had to see Rodney's set up so they could plan. He focused hard, thinking about Rodney, reaching for everything he could and the image reappeared. Still tied, still on a bed that was unravelling into the ghostly shapes of a room. Actual rope...he could get a knife and cut that. Clothes...ah...pile of clothes on the chair. He concentrated and more information scrolled up highlighting areas in the room. Monitors possibly? He was sure. One in a vent. Okay, he'd block it but that meant they weren't going to get a lot of time.

Beside him he could hear Carson's breathing change to ragged as he held that image and he put a hand on him to calm him.

It was a mission, and later they could deal with it. Later when they got out of there and got free, Carson could have all the nervous breakdowns he wanted, because neither of them were suited to that kind of thing. Rodney was still conscious, John could tell from the way he moved every now and again, turning his head one way or the other. If he was conscious, then they could get him up and running *fast* instead of having to carry dead weight.

That was good because John probably wouldn't be able to carry his own weight soon. And his damn face was swelling on the side he hit it and even with the numbness it felt weird and was swelling around his eye.

Finally, finally, the Imperials went from chatting to asleep pretty quickly in the end. He got the impression it just crept up on them and they both slumped. He pulled out the knife.

"I'm going to block that monitor, you take this, start on the ropes. Make sure he doesn't panic," he instructed. "We'll get him in some clothes and then get the hell out of here. Got it?"

He waited for the nod and handed over the knife, getting one of his own from where he strapped it on earlier. He gestured and took the lead into the room where the actual sight of Rodney very nearly broke his concentration completely.

There was sight and there was *sight*, normal sight, that came with smells and sounds and every other sensory information stream. He could smell semen, and sweat, and now he could see, just in a quick glance, how tight the blindfold was and the way Rodney's mouth pulled down sharply, head turning towards the sounds. John couldn't stare, he needed to block the camera while Carson moved closer to Rodney, reaching to cut the rope at his wrists.

"Just be calm, love. We're getting you out of here..."

He moved as quick as he could, opting for the lenscap of doom approach to the monitor as he didn't have time to get up there and rewire the damn thing. Even so, he moved fast, moving to Rodney's ankles, seeing where he'd been fighting against it, listening to Carson's soft litany.

"We're here, we're going to get you out, let me get that blindfold off of you....there..."

"You're oh, god, you're not dead." Rodney's voice sounded rough, raw, but he wasn't fighting *them*. Carson got him to twist onto his side while John sawed through the rope on his right ankle. Good, great. They could get the hell out, soon.

"No, no we're not. Well John looks a little closer to it than normal, but." Carson cut through one wrist-rope and leaned over to start on the other even as he got through his ankle rope and started the other. "I need you to get dressed. We're going to get out of here using the device okay? We have a vehicle waiting, so you just need to get up and try and move the best you can and when we are safely away I'll make sure you're really okay.”

John was half surprised Rodney wasn't in hysterics. But maybe that wasn't being fair to him.

Rodney wasn't that hysterical, or he was, but it was a functional sort of nervousness and it didn't have any place. "Dressed, right, I can do dressed, just cut me loose, we have to get out of here, *have* to..."

"We are, we will love. John'll get us out, we wanted to be here sooner but..."

John was having a nice nap. John grimaced to himself as he freed the other ankle and knew if he had won, maybe nothing would've happened to Rodney. None of this at least. He grabbed the pants and started to roughly drag them on even as Carson said "....but it took a time to find you even with the device. We are several miles from the main base, underground somewhere."

"They said it was a secret location that few knew about. And by 'they', I mean Kolya..." Rodney grabbed at the waistband, either trying to help John or take control of getting dressed himself, and now was *not* the time for Rodney to get touchy.

He let him do that, and found his shoes and he'd have to go without socks as he pretty much shoved them on the bare feet. He tossed the t-shirt and jacket top at Carson. "Well, they weren't wrong," John said and flipped open the lid of the scanner. No one in the immediate vicinity. "Okay, we're clear to go..."

Which was him trying not to be obnoxious about hurrying them.

"Can you stand Rodney?" Carson said gently. "I can support you..."

"Yes, god-dammit, I can stand. They didn't cut my Achilles or anything." But from the tone of Rodney's snap as he pulled his t-shirt on and did stand up, maybe they'd threatened to do just that. It was almost a relief to hear Rodney take that pissed off tone of voice, taking his jacket from Carson to pull it on.

John glanced at Rodney quickly, glimpsing the paleness of his face and how his eyes were angry rather than hopeless. Blue and crackling with genuine anger rather than irritation and annoyance. He didn't doubt for a moment that if there were a weapon handy, and Kolya too, Rodney might be tempted to do something stupid.

His respect for the scientist grew at that point. He already respected his intelligence and what he could do, but he had been taught to value strength in adversity and this was a reflection of that. And he was starting to feel a bit clammy which probably meant his drugs weren't going to last a lot longer. Fuck.

"Let's go," he said and headed out the door, borrowing one of the sleeping guards' weapons on the principle he needed more fire power. 

Just in case. It was for him, without question, since Rodney probably couldn't fire a gun without lessons. Which was something to look into when they got back to the Americas. And they *would* get back, which meant he had to get walking once Carson started to herd Rodney out of the room, escorting him between them while John kept an eye on the monitor. 

Everyone should have one of these, he decided. It made infiltrating a lot easier. Carson kept up a soft comforting murmur to Rodney as they moved along the corridors and about five minutes in, he saw the red dots start to move rapidly in their direction. "Shit, they know... look, we're going to have to try and run for it," John said to them both hitting a jog that made him feel sick every time he jolted his body. 

And there went the alarms. They could still do it though. They should be rushing to the room, fanning out. They didn't know how they'd got in.

The only problem was that they'd have to know how they got out. 

Looking at the compact showed that Carson and Rodney were still almost on top of him, running pace with him, which meant that either they were faster than John thought, or John was a lot slower than he was used to being.

Maybe a bit of both because he had a nagging feeling shortly that he was going to crash down hard and that he couldn't just pretend that he'd hadn’t had the almighty crap beaten out of him because he had to get people to safety. The weapon he'd taken from the guard was one of those weird Zat things, that they must've lifted from the Go'auld which was useful as they were a hell of a lot quieter than a gun, and didn't actually kill.

Which he proved by running and shooting dead on at the two Imperials in the corridor ahead. Slower he might be, less accurate no.

"Clear! Come on, now..." And more on the way. Okay he could deal with that.

He had a really fantastic gun, and Carson and Rodney shadowing him, stopping when he stopped, pausing while he fired. They were going to make it -- all they had to do was make it to the transport vehicle and...

"Halt! You're outnumbered and surrounded."

The fuck they were, how the hell had they known to intercept them there? John glanced at the device seeing where they were, how many and okay, it was a lot, but not quite surrounding them if he could take out those three.

He shoved Rodney and Carson in behind him and fired, hitting two out of the three. "Stay down!" he hissed. Crackles of energy zipped over their heads.

Taking them down was easy but they were effectively pinned down at this junction point.

He could lay cover fire, get Rodney and Carson out in front of him or beside him and draw it towards himself....

"You are outnumbered, Colonel Sheppard! Give up, or we will be forced to use real weapons."

Kolya. Okay, that was a problem. "You don't want us dead!" he called out. "Otherwise you would've killed us after the Fight."

Another two down, but five more replacing them. Shit. The scanner showed more and more closing on their position. If he broke and ran at them, there was a possibility that Carson and Rodney could get to the transport. "You've got the keys?" he asked Carson

"Aye, but..."

"When I go...you go. Up that corridor, you understand?" He could do this and Carson would drive them out of there.

"Please don't force me to do anything rash, Colonel Sheppard! You will not be leaving this base. Your transport has been commandeered." Fuck fuck! The only way they could know that was if someone -- probably Rodney -- was bugged.

Well crap. That meant they didn't have a chance. He looked at the screen, then back at Rodney and Carson. They weren't going to make it. "Then give me a reason why I should let you take us in considering your treatment of Dr McKay."

Bargain, and more bargains. Either that or kill them himself. And god help him, he couldn't do that to them. But Kolya didn't know that and he did know the protocols.

Sometimes people did that when they were in their situation. It wasn't so unthinkable that a good Imperial would kill those he was guarding if it were to protect the Empire. It just wasn't what John did. "My treatment of Doctor McKay was to break him down -- you know the tactic, Sheppard. I'm sure you've *practised* the tactic in the battlefield. You were in Afghanistan, were you not? I have fought there, I know what becomes necessary to do in those mountains. Surrender and we will be able to skip such petty posturing."

"I want your word of honour Kolya that you will not subject Dr Beckett or Dr McKay to any further techniques to break them down," he hesitated a moment. "I'd bargain for myself but things apply different for us I guess. They are under my protection, however. strained that might be. "

If Kolya swore in public to the terms, then there was a chance he'd keep to them.

"You have my word of honor that I will not continue to break either of the Doctors." Which did imply that it all laid on him, but that was okay. He could pass out and they could do whatever they wanted to his body as long as it kept the two freemen safe.

If he was going to suck this badly at protecting them, then he deserved that. He'd allowed Rodney to take a forfeit, get kidnapped and raped and then by his own inattention, stupidity, he had managed to get Carson and himself caught as well. As Imperial duties went, he wasn't exactly covering himself in glory.

He looked over his shoulder at the other and then said a soft, "Sorry, guys" before he carefully lay his weapon down and stepped forward with his arms raised. 

Rodney's mouth was pulled down in a tight like, but he managed spare nod at John, even if he didn't say anything. 

"Thank you, Sheppard. Take them all back to cells, and search their persons." It wasn 't Kolya that he saw directly, but a soldier carrying a walkie talkie. Kolya was probably sitting *in* the transport, in case they'd gotten that far.

"Sir," the Imperial with the walkie talkie acknowledged. "Separate cells or together sir?" Two other Imperials were already cuffing his hands behind his back and frisking him, taking his knives and gun. And he'd really liked those knives too.

"I want Dr Beckett to at least look over Dr McKay," he said. "Which is in your best interests...now."

"The major is still injured from the fight," Carson spoke up. "He needs to be tended to. I have my kit with me, and you can search it if you want. But he needs the antibiotics."

Kolya seemed to consider. "Put them in a single cell, let the doctor have only dressings, swabs and mild antiseptics and the antibiotics. Give them food and water."

"Sir." The Imperials had their orders and apparently that was all they need to get them on their way. They were taking no chances now. Not with any of them. 

Sometimes it was best to just try and hope for another chance to escape. Maybe when his brain started working again apparently.

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

* * *

Out of the fire and right back into the fire.

At least the new cell was a little different. Mattresses on the floor meant that they were closer to bugs, yes, but it also meant that there were no convenient bed frames for them to be tied to. If someone decided to take advantage of them, they'd have a fight on mattresses and loose bedding. 

Rodney still didn't relax until the cell door was locked behind them, until Carson had been given what supplies they'd allow and there was a tray of bread and water for them.

John immediately sat, leaning up against the wall, which was odd, because he probably should've been looking for ways out or something. Plotting their miraculous escape. Not apparently sulking.

"Rodney, do you want me to take a look at you?" Carson said quietly.

"No, I'm fine." Rodney crossed his arms over his chest, giving Carson a bare glance. They'd taken his jacket again, but at least he had his t-shirt. No jacket, his coat was probably still in the lab hanging up, and... well, it wasn't like they were getting out of there soon. He was just cold. "What's-- I think Sheppard needs it more."

"No, I don't," John said with what Rodney considered to be complete predictability. "Or more to the point I guess I can't have any more than I actually have had."

Carson nodded slowly. "Unfortunately true. He'll have the antibiotics when some of the worse is out of his system. Come and sit with me. You look cold." He seemed to be taking this whole incarceration too well.

*Far* too well, and Rodney wouldn’t help but think that he was supposed to be dead. Because he was supposed to be dead. Carson was supposed to be dead, and John too, but they were *there*, and there was a slim chance that it was a hallucination. It wouldn't exactly be the first time that trauma had brought about a trip away from reality land, and whether or not Carson was *warm* wouldn't be a tell-tale sign of reality. "I am cold. I've been *naked*, and this one creepy bastard, he, he..." Jacked off on Rodney's back, which was the most disgusting feeling ever, and he really wanted a shower.

"I know, I know." Carson was slipping an arm around him. "I'm sorry Rodney, it wasn't meant to turn out this way. Sit, please?" He looked incredibly worried. John was just watching them both, his eyes seeming to be half closed as if it was too much effort to get involved.

Rodney paced, watching the food for a moment, and he didn't want to sit down, he wanted to do something. Not that he knew what he wanted to do, but something. Anything. And Carson had an arm over his shoulders and Rodney wanted to lean into him and hide, except that he was dead. Or not. "I'm not tired."

"It's best to get some rest," John said from where he was sitting. "I doubt Kolya is going to give us much chance to rest when he gets whatever is going on going on."

"Something to eat then?" Carson said reaching for the tray.

"He plans on holding us for the requisite 28 days. He said you were *dead*," Rodney reiterated, staring at Carson as he pulled away. The tray moved with him, but there had been that week where he'd hallucinated his father at engineering training, bitching that it would have been lovely if people had heard of things like proper shoring up in the mines, and on and on, and he'd played with Rodney's pencils and drafting tools the whole time. "I... maybe."

John looked up at them. "Which means it's not really about that," he said with infuriating calm. "Not just about possession otherwise he wouldn't have done that to you, not try and break you. He could've just held you. He wanted your cooperation for something and he expected to be out of our reach before Carson and I started to come after. "

"Either that or he wasn't counting on the scanner," Carson said agreeing. "Let’s face it, without that we would've stood no chance."

John nodded. "He wants us...you to do something for him. And it's a rush job or he would never have tried something this risky."

"Because we all know that I do my best thinking when I absolutely *can’t* think. I mean, if our lives hinge on me being able to fix something for him? We are *completely* fucked," Rodney murmured, voice running a little fast as he finally did sit down, closer to John because Carson would follow and they all needed food.

He did and it did look like they were almost huddling together. 

"Rodney, we'll deal with this," John replied calmly. "Now is not the time to give up."

Easy for him to say. 

"We'll come up with something between us," Carson added, and split up the food. "Eat this now Rodney. You haven't had anything for most of the day."

No, he'd had something but he really didn't want to talk about it. Rodney clutched onto that chunk of bread, chewing on it as slowly as he could make himself. It was actually pretty good, and tasted a little like a sourdough. "We should have just broken contract and run."

"And at that point, the US would've turned around and sent us right back," John replied taking a chunk of bread but just looking at it rather than eating it. Carson was eating his though and moved in close enough to Rodney that he could feel the heat of him next to him. And his hand, gentle as if he was afraid Rodney might break.

He wasn't going to break. Not now, not that he had company now. If he was going to break, he would have done it already, he would have done it when Kolya fucked him, and then when the odd curious soldier popped in to molest him until it wasn't amusing any more. He'd had enough guys slide two fingers into his ass, stretch him out and laugh a little to last a lifetime. "So if we manage to get out of here now?"

"Then we can have the US Imperial services hang their respective asses out to dry," Sheppard said looking very laid back, though he was pretty sure it was a front. "No doubt he'll let us know what he wants."

"When he wants. On his own time." Rodney slouched down, hunching his shoulders as he chewed on his bread. "I hate this."

"I don't think any of us are particularly keen on it," Carson added. "Do you think he'll keep his word? About not...doing more to us."

John nodded. "He gave his word in public. You and Rodney should be fine. Uncomfortable maybe but okay."

Which implied pretty obviously that John was going to be less than fine, which made Rodney frown as he looked sideways at him. "There's no reason to break you."

"He might give it a miss," John said agreeably. "Different rules apply to Imperials. There's a whole set of conventions he might or might not decide to apply."

Carson looked at him. "John, you really can't stand much more physical punishment. And you should eat."

"Just rest. Don't, don't think about it. Thinking about it doesn't help." At all, because thinking about it kept making Rodney's mind derail a little, fill up with memories and thoughts he didn't like. It was a little easier to not think with John on one side of him and Carson on the other.

"I know, Rodney," John said patiently, and Rodney could only assume he'd been in this sort of situation before. It was weird how he could just sit there and be okay about it.

Carson reached for the small bag of medicine. "Before you go to sleep John, take these," he said passing the pills over and John looked at them and then dry-swallowed them down. 

"Thanks."

John seemed to be avoiding looking at him. Which was odd because he'd gotten used to the way John's eyes followed him. Rodney closed his eyes, clutching tightly to his bread. Calm. He needed to stay nice and calm. "Do you have any tranquilizers, maybe?"

"Hold on," Carson said rustling in the bag. "That would work as something similar. It's an allergy pill, they must’ve read your file Rodney. It'll make you a little drowsy. Do you want it?"

"Take it," John said beside him, his voice sounding closer to his ear than he was expecting.

Did he want it? Yes. Yes. Rodney nodded, and shifted, reaching to take the pill from Carson. "I was doing okay before I knew where we were. I thought we were in another complex, not *under* ground probably a mile or two. I can't, you know I was from a mining town, right? I never worked out what kind of brave stupidity made you want to go into the mines after you've helped in rescue teams, and that was what all the kids did, before we tested, and most of the buildings here aren't up to any code I know so I'd really rather not think about the reinforcements or lack of in these rooms."

"Claustrophobia?" Carson said. "I'm a wee bit wary of heights myself. Everyone is scared of something. But I'm pretty sure they'd want the Stargate safe. So, I think we'll be okay from that."

He took the pill in a gulp, not wanting to be the one to completely freak out. "Don't you think so, John? John..." There was a pause as Carson leaned over him. "He's... asleep. Not surprising really."

Sleeping? Yeah right.

Somehow he didn't think so. Rodney slouched down a little more, and moved his arms, wrapping them tightly around himself.

"Come here Rodney," Carson said quietly. "You need more body heat, if, if you're okay with that. I understand if you're not. But I can hold you properly. I'm really sorry it didn't work. I know John is, too. We were close, but... I'm sorry."

"You tried. Hey, and I thought you were both dead. This has made my day a lot better." Rodney shifted a little, closer to Carson, but he looked at John. "Can we drag him closer, too? It might help."

"You're right. You're okay with that?" Carson said. "I don't think either of us wanted to assume how you were. Me? I'd be a bloody wreck, I'm sure of it." He moved to tug John over and he had to be doing some amazing acting if he was pretending. "It would be best if you were in the middle. In case of delayed shock."

"Don't tell me what delayed shock feels like. I'd rather not see it coming," Rodney murmured, leaning into Carson. He reached one arm out to wrap it around John, and the closeness was good. "I'm completely humiliated. I want a shower. I want to shoot someone. In uh, not that exact order."

John's hair really was pretty messy when he looked at it from this angle. 

"I understand love," Carson replied, trying to hold them both to him. "I'll see if I can persuade them tomorrow that hygiene will prevent infections. Try and get something out of them. Things will be better tomorrow."

"Hey, as long as no-one's ass is serving as a centerpiece for base entertainment, I'm thinking it could happen." Rodney turned a little, and he took a few deep breathes to relax but it happened, it worked. He could sleep.

John was warm and solid on one side of him, Carson was keeping him together. Considering how things were even an hour or so ago, things were improving. He just wished they'd managed to get away. Maybe he could dream about that instead of other things.

He was so focused on sleep, he missed the dampness around Carson's eyes on his behalf, and he managed his own tiny miracle after a short time. He actually managed to go to sleep.

* * *

Carson was very uncomfortable with his new role in their little group. Being the one trying to keep it together in this sort of situation was surprisingly hard and draining - give him a medical emergency every day. When they'd woken up, he'd been first and the three of them had been twined together a little more thoroughly that he would’ve believed possible. Rodney had ended up curled into him and latching onto John like a limpet.

He hadn't lost his sense of humour enough that he passed up the opportunity to see Rodney's expression when he woke up.

However he had thrown his best stroppy doctor act, and had secured them a shower and eventually persuaded Rodney that he needed examining, and applied antiseptics and dressings where necessary and gotten confirmation from John, who was moving with exceptional care that yes, it fucking well hurt, and yes he was still passing blood from kidneys that had been effectively pulped by the Russian professional, thank you very much for asking.

It figured that he was the only doctor they had, and it also figured that Rodney and John were separately two completely different kinds of bad patients. John was almost resentful that he was in pain still, and Rodney was circumventing the issue to the point that he'd circled around the globe a few times. Eventually, it would catch up to Rodney, but Carson hoped that wasn't until they were back on their home soil again.

Now however, they were being taken to see Kolya and it was almost insulting the way they guarded John and not them, but as John murmured it wasn't right to complain about an advantage. He did intend to talk to Kolya about John though. If he didn't get an infection from that, it would be a bloody miracle. And he just wanted Rodney to be safe. Not hurt.

He was pretty keen on not getting hurt himself actually if it came down to cases.

He did notice as they were escorted into some room that looked like a high tech holding cell, that Kolya was not looking happy at all.

Kolya's hands were folded behind his back, and he watched as they were filed into the actual holding cell. He moved his hands and there was a slight jingle of noise. "You will have to tell me about the device that you used to find your way here, Sheppard."

“Perhaps I'm not feeling particularly talkative," John drawled and Carson wanted to slap the man for being an idiot. They didn't need all this macho posturing.

"You will find yourself very talkative, I think, if I feel a sudden slip in my personal integrity and decide to deal one on one with either of the doctors here." He stepped towards the cage, and there were interesting-looking collars in his hands.

"You gave your word of honour Kolya," John said nearly growling. "Those are *not* the sort of thing you should use on them."

Carson looked at them. "What are they?" he asked, unconsciously backing away.

"The sort of collars they put on War-Slaves," John replied. "I was expecting it for me, as I guess that is my category, but you two are freeman. They are NOT war-slaves Kolya."

"I'm not a war slave, because the last thing I knew, our countries weren't at war." Carson could almost hear the 'yet' in Rodney's voice as he edged closer to John. "Unless we've missed something in the news."

"They are property to be taken possession of as much as you are," Kolya shrugged. "You can stand still for me to put these on, or I can have you dealt with first."

"The property and possession is as yet still 26 days in the future," John replied. "Dealt with huh? And what did you have in mind?"

"For God's sake John..." Carson was saying that before he even considered it. "Just accept it. You can't fight every battle."

"Listen to your friend, Sheppard. He's right. You can cooperate with me now, or I will take 26 days to break each of you down and remould you as I see fit." Kolya held one of the collars out. "Make your decision."

"Bullshit, you don't have 26 days otherwise you wouldn't taken Dr McKay in the first place," John said stepping in front of them again. "Tell me what you want before any of us put on your collars."

Carson put an arm around Rodney as much to steady himself as it was to comfort Rodney. Because Rodney was staring at Kolya, staring at the collar that was being held up against the bars. "We have run into a technological difficulty that will require a gene-holder, at the least. A team of my men are missing."

John stopped a moment and stared at him. "A team huh?" He shifted a little. "Lot of trouble for an Imperial team. Risking conflict with the US, trying to do this under the radar. And a lot of people around here wearing House Kolya tags."

He walked up to Kolya, his attitude changed and Carson could not for the life of him work out why. "I know someone who's been missing from the base of a week now, who is important to House Kolya and to you personally," John said. "And you didn't need a gene holder before. You needed McKay. It's Idos isn't it?"

"Idos Kolya was heading up the team, yes. McKay would have sufficed for what I need done, but then you arrived, with your device in hand -- somehow you avoided my men and found Doctor McKay, and you knew you were outnumbered without seeing us. You can find people with the device." He continued to hold the collars out. "You can work with me, or I will take your servitude as payment."

"All you had to do was ask nicely," John said stepping up. "Do you want me to put it on or do you get off on that?"

Carson was absolutely sure talking to Kolya like that was not going to help. And he was missing something and god only know what it was. His brain possibly. Rodney was quiet, watching the conflict, not interjecting the way Carson was used to him doing. "Put it on yourself -- if you can accomplish what I need accomplished, you can take it off."

"If we accomplish what you need accomplishing, we’ll be more than just taking these off," John said. "And you know it. For that we'll cooperate."

He took the collar and put his neck in it, and Carson flinched a little as it automatically snicked shut. It wasn't like they had a lot of choice. It was do this or be pinned down while someone put them on. He could see that.

John passed the other two to him and he hesitated as he passed one to Rodney. His House had been cuffs only, and he'd never had to wear a collar, except in that school play but that had been made out of cloth. It felt...odd, and he jolted when it snapped shut.

It nicked a bit of skin under his chin, too, and that was going to sting for a while. Rodney lifted his chin up when he put his own, and he seemed strangely philosophical about it. "Metal. This is all very ingenious, and I'm pleased for you people for having automated collars, but what exactly do you think we can do for you?"

Kolya seemed a lot more relaxed when they were in the collars which made Carson nervous for some reason.

"The team had located what we think was an Ancient outpost. The survey teams that went there brought back images of stones carved with Ancient symbols. An in-house specialist in House Kolya recognised the symbols that had been over looked, indicating the ruins was not the main thing there, it was a signpost," Kolya explained. "A House Kolya expedition went through and made one report that they had deciphered the writing and were heading due west. They made no further check in. A second team went through, and their progress was halted by some sort of forcefield. We have been unable to penetrate it."

"Which is why you need Rodney," Carson said as comprehension dawned. "And John with the locator."

"The first team must lie on the other side of the forcefield, which we need disabled." They were probably running low on food and water, too, which was never a good thing, if they'd travelled lightly.

John nodded. "Well the locator should work. Seemed to have a few miles radius when I was using it. If you trust us, that is." He quirked an eyebrow at Kolya and Carson thought privately that baiting him was not the way to go.

"If we are going, I'll need to take some medical supplies," Carson said. "Particularly for Major Sheppard and Dr McKay. Really, they should be in the Infirmary right now."

"I'll need my equipment," Rodney added. "I doubt the power source is going to be something we're used to, which means I need to be able to analyse it to, oh, turn it off without accidentally compressing it and killing everyone on the inside." 

"That would be most inadvisable," Kolya said. "You will get your equipment and you will also get an assistant who will ensure you don't accidentally kill all of us. Dr Zelenka will be joining us. He has the best grasp of force field applications, according to Dr Pershin. You will cooperate, you will do all of this. Or there will be consequences."

Consequences that implied a great deal of discomfort for them all, and possibly life-long servitude. "Zelenka? Fine, he’s the only one with two braincells to rub together anyway."

"You will be brought gear, and supplies. Equip yourselves. We will be leaving in 2 hours, and we will not be able to return until the next US stargate downtime." Kolya said and he didn't look at all happy about any of this. "Dr Beckett, you will make do with the supplies we have available. They will be sufficient. Be ready."

"Won't miss it for the world," John said crossing his arms.

"It almost sounds as if we had a choice." Rodney reached a hand up to fiddle with his collar. "We'll be ready."

"Don't try and remove the collar Dr McKay," Kolya said as he turned to leave. "You might get a nasty shock."

Carson felt around his own metal collar, with trepidation. "You, you allowed us to put *shock collars* on?" he said to John. "Where was that a good move?"

John just looked at him. "Where they could've knocked us out and put them on while we were unconscious but instead we managed to work out we have leverage, Carson," he said in a patient tone.

"What're our chances that he'll actually let us go if we get this done?" There was a nervous spike in Rodney's voice, and he lowered his hand from his neck, glancing at his palm for a moment. "I mean, he hasn't been mister honest so far."

"Practically zero," John replied. "But if we rescue Idos, he has authority as the Heir of House Kolya, and he will owe us for his life. And he will release us."

"Are you sure?" Carson asked. "I don't know about you, but I don't really fancy being at Kolya's mercy. He doesn't strike me as the merciful type."

"He isn't," John said. "But we have little in the way of options. We are too far from even their base to make a run for it, even if we could escape and at the moment, we have at least got an assurance made in public that he will not torture either of you. We break out, get recaptured, that deal won't apply."

"I'm not keen on the idea of him torturing you or anything." Rodney folded his arms over his chest, and looked around the jail cell for a moment before he paced into a corner and sat down. "Nothing to do but wait for him to bring out supplies."

"I'm hoping he'll keep it to a minimum," John replied, shrugging a little. "He does need me at least to start with."

Carson was hoping there would be nothing at all. "Then he'd ought not to do anything. John, you've had a lot of injuries recently. I should never have given you those shots yesterday."

It was his fault, he knew that.

Except. Except it would be just Rodney there if he hadn't given John those shots, Rodney thinking they were dead instead of sitting in the corner looking miserable. Rodney being mistreated and put through things that he had no training for. While John had the training to handle what was going on.

"You need to emphasise that you're a geneholder."

"I do know how to bargain for my own survival," John replied also sitting down very gingerly. 

He looked resigned though, and Carson started to have the sneaking suspicion that just because someone had training in something didn't make it any less terrible. "Have you, have you ever been in situations like this before?” he asked and had no idea where the question came from aside from the fact there was a chance they could survive if it had been done before.

John nodded slowly. "Few times."

"What did you -- what did you, I mean, how did you survive?" Rodney cracked his eyes open, but he was still huddled in the corner, watching them both, watching John pace restlessly.

John shrugged again, wincing slightly at the movement. "The training teaches how to switch things around in your head. If you need to. Like cross-wiring different feelings. Totally fucks you up, but at the end of it, you're alive and you can escape where others don't because of it. Not even all Imperials get that sort of thing, but you get it for Officer training, and then they said that looking the way I did, I'd be the first one on my knees for the enemy, so, yeah...."

He looked uncomfortable and Carson was aware that he was just gaping. "Bloody hell, I never knew they did that sort of thing for Imperial training."

"Not so much for the Civilian Imperial Guard. But combat? Yeah. Especially strike forces with high risk." John said.

"So you were on strike forces," Rodney guessed. "Which brings me to 'how did you end up here' except, hey, I got us all exiled to Siberia in the first place so I can't talk."

"I was a pilot," John replied. "Good enough to run in high risk operations, to take on rogue metas. I've flown pretty much everything, everywhere. Been shot down a couple of times. Taken as a war-slave. Escaped. All of that. Not everyone has and Afghanistan..." He paused. "The reports are in the media but they're not playing by the rules there. They don't just take War-slaves and abide by the conventions. They are killing prisoners, they are--" He shook his head. "Some of my squadron went down. I disobeyed direct orders and went after them. They were dead when I got there. That's it."

And he was punished for it. Carson wasn't sure whether that was the most disturbing part, or that John rattled it off as if he were reading directions off the back of a carton of cake mix. "And *we're* your punishment?"

That was faintly disturbing, and made it even more incredible that John had been doing what he had been doing.

"In a manner of speaking. I think the grounding was meant to be the punishment part," John smiled a little. "Although, I admit to thinking someone really, really hated me after a week or so here."

Carson could understand that. 

Rodney was staring openly at John, and it was one of those times that Carson wanted to knock sense into Rodney. "You're not kidding, are you? That's not a joking face."

John smiled a little. "I like you guys. I have to protect you. The punishment isn't you, it's not being able to fly okay? That's the truth. And to be honest, considering how we're set up right now, I suck at the protecting part."

"No, no John, you don’t really. No one else..."

"Carson, just look at where you are and think about it," John said mildly. "So, anything else you want to know?"

"I want to know how you're so calm about this," Rodney muttered from the corner. "Except I'm sure that was covered in your training. You both need to pretend to be use useful and important on this mission that it's not funny. Okay?"

"Definitely okay," Carson agreed hastily. "I have a horrible feeling I'm the most expendable."

John shook his head. "They'll need a doctor for Idos and the missing team. No one wastes a doctor. And...I'm calm because I can't do much. It doesn't mean I want it, or the prospect isn't causing me some problems, but that won't help you guys so..."

"Huh." Rodney closed his eyes, and it left Carson wanting to pull at John, made him want to make them both rest before they started out.

So in the end, that was what he managed, with a little persuasion. John and Rodney sitting together, and him standing there like a complete lemon, and watching them as if that would help somehow and he would be able to actually do something if there was a threat or dangerous.

* * *

It was really, really important that they didn't realise how difficult it was for him to move and keep up his appearance of calm. He knew what he looked like, because Carson had lost the anxious look when he looked at him, and that meant his exercises in faking it were working.

John stood straight, as they waited in the gate room. The metal of the collar was a constant reminder of the power Kolya had over them and what he had agreed to - even if it could've been done with them unconscious and undoubtedly would've been done. But no matter what he told Carson and Rodney, the rest of the plan was sketchy at best. They might have to run. Which possibly meant trying to work out how to disable the collars, working this Stargate, which looked pretty much like a hunk of metal in a pretty hoop. 

They'd been given gear, no weapons though, and Kolya had the scanner and they were waiting. And his back was killing him, and pretty much everything else, but he stood as impassively as he could manage.

Rodney kept fidgeting with the straps on his backpack of gear. It was a nervous gesture, sliding his thumbs under the strap and tightening it then repeating the gesture over and over. Every time he did it, his sleeves rode up on his arm, and John could see the bruising and scraps from where he'd been roped for restraint. There were fainter, older cuff scars just a little above that, a shiny mark on pale skin.

He really hoped that Rodney was just nervous and that he wasn't witnessing a McKay nervous Breakdown.

Carson didn't look too worried, or perhaps it he had gone through fear and out the other side. He had been impressed at how well the doctor had kept it together during their whole ordeal. In fact it surprised him, because he always seemed to be the one backing away from risk. It looked like he misjudged him on that score.

So a squad of 6 men, plus Kolya, plus them and, oh yes, they were waiting for Zelenka who had undoubtedly had a rude awakening, considering it was probably the middle of the night or something.

And there he was, being led in, looking a little nervy and already in a collar and then he could see the relief as he set eyes on Rodney. "Dr McKay! We were most concerned, we thought..."

"Yes, yes, 'rumours of my death are highly exaggerated'." Rodney waved one hand a little, gesturing Radek closer. "Tell me that there's either food or equipment in your bag."

"Some of both," Radek replied and John saw him turn and look at him and his eyes widen, no doubt at the garish bruising on his face or at the collar. He wasn't sure.

"I did not know this was a mission. I thought, we thought that the three of you had , uh, skipped town yes? Back to the US."

"I bet everyone does," Carson muttered under his breath and John found himself again surprised that the doctor was putting those sorts of thing together.

"I wish we had." Rodney gave up plucking at the straps of his bag, and shoved his hands into his pockets. "How often do scientists and imperials from friendly countries end up wearing collars on 'missions', Radek?"

"More than you would think," Radek replied with disarming honesty and John wondered how many times he had seen this happen before. Some contracted in scientist vanish in the middle of the night. 

"Now we are all present," Kolya said as he strode into the gate room. "We will be leaving. Your energies and focus will be on your assigned task. Failure to do so will result in punishment. Any resistance or disobedience will be treated with the same." He turned and nodded to the gate controller. "Dial the address."

"Fantastic," Rodney whispered, glancing at Radek and then John before he jerked his head at Carson. "Sheppard, have you ever been through a Stargate?"

"Nope," he said, moving closer. "Not evenly completely sure what it does." Which wasn't quite the truth, because he'd listened to enough discussions to know it was a stable wormhole between two places. But it might help distract Rodney. There were bits of the gate spinning now, and something clamped down and lit up. All very impressive he guessed.

"Chevron locked," Rodney murmured. He glanced at Radek, who was just watching them all with a tight expression. Yeah, he'd seen that happen too many times. "That's like when the phone rings when you dial the right address. Technically stable wormholes shouldn't exist -- they're a pipe dream that require exotic matter, which would be Naqadah. It transports your body through space in a discrete packet. You won't even feel a thing."

"Well, that's always nice to know," John replied watching other chevron's encode one after another. "Any of you been off-world before then?"

It sounded so casual when he said it.

"Aye, a few times," Carson replied surprisingly. "I bloody hated it. There's nothing natural about dematerialising and rematerializing. I kept thinking of all those Star Trek episodes where something when horribly wrong with the transporters."

"Dr Beckett, I don’t think that's particularly reassuring," Zelenka said as the last of the chevrons encode.

"I've been off-world, but not often." Rodney held out a hand with a flash of four fingers, before he looked up at the gate. "Mostly for things like this, actually. I don't think most *sane* people like to risk their foremost scientists with the threats on the other side of the gate. But as the foremost expert in the Stargates, Sheppard, I can assure you that Doctor McCoy over there is wrong about the gates."

John nearly startled with the whoosh of what seemed like a horizontal fountain of water, shooting out of the centre of the gate and then settled into a rippling liquid effect drawn taut. The interface that Rodney and Radek always talked about.

"Major Sheppard, lead your colleagues through the gate," Kolya ordered. "We will be right behind you."

Yeah, he bet they would. "Not feel a thing right? " he said walking slowly forward.

"Not unless you're standing in front of the gate when it opens. Note that there's a *reason* why the dhd is so far back from the gate." Rodney tossed that in as almost a grim warning as he hefted his bag a little, and wandered closer to John to follow him in."

"I'll bear that in mind," John said and stepped through the event horizon.

Just for a moment, it was like a deep part of himself felt like he was flying, through space and then her was stepping out onto a world where the light was just that much different, he instinctively realised it was a different world. "Whoo.." he said exhaling, glancing around. Different, very different. The air felt different, the light, these strange stones...

He really was on another planet. John Sheppard was on another planet, and it didn't matter if he was there against his will, it was pretty cool no matter what. 

"Oh, whew, no iris. That's almost my fear, going splat like a bug zapper."

"That was not a thought I needed," Radek said beside him. "Do not worry the Major."

"Oh great, all my limbs are still attached," Carson said as he walked down the slope followed by Kolya and the Russian Imperials, or House Guards. John wasn't sure which.

The wormhole closed behind them and Kolya approached them. "Major Sheppard, time to see if you were worth dragging along." He handed over the scanner device, and John felt it hum as he held it. "Locate Idos. Now."

John flipped it open and focused on Idos. Idos when he had last seen him, grinning and tousling his hair, making jokes about how he wasn't bruised anymore and that he didn't see him as much and... there was a flicker and then it was like someone let off a flash grenade behind his eyes and when he opened them again, reaching to grab someone random for support, there was a holographic representation of the shield floating above the device.

"Congratulations, he's definitely behind the shield." Rodney rocked back on his heels, standing shoulder to shoulder with John, and oh. He'd grabbed onto Rodney. "Can you expand that a little? This is *really* interesting, and how did you end up with the gene and not me again?"

"One of my ancestors had hot alien sex?" John said flippantly, but Kolya did not seem to be smiling. Perhaps he'd expected more. "Give me a moment. That was like running into it headfirst. Am I looking for something in particular?"

It was more tiring that he remembered, or maybe that was just him right now. He squinted and focused, trying to imagine zooming in around it, with the half formed thought of finding out more of the shield. Okay, okay, it was doing something. Schematic representation of about four different points on the outside of the shield, the knowledge whispering into his mind seductively, making him forget to breathe.

"John? John..." Carson was shaking at him worried. 

"Yeah? I'm okay," he replied after a moment of blinking and feeling dizzy.

Rodney wasn't shaking him, though. He was still flanking John, an arm half around him, the other hand holding onto the other end of the compact for John, and he was rapt. Maybe he was studying the points. Maybe it made sense to Rodney.

He hoped so. It was different here. It made sense that there would be something blocking the search but that made it more difficult.

"See...see here, the focus of the energy cycles through this point on each of these. Structural," Zelenka said pointing at the enlarged boxes and patterns representing the shield that seemed completely random to him. "Not seeing the generating point. Within the field perhaps yes?"

"Of course it's within the field. Hello, what self respecting alien race would put the power source of their supposed protection *outside* of that protection?" Rodney shot Radek a brief glare, before studying the display again. "Now, can you expand that so we can *find* the shield?"

"It seems to be difficult for John," Carson said concerned. "Perhaps he should rest."

"He will not," Kolya interjected. "Continue Major Sheppard. You managed well enough on earth."

"Yeah, well...your bases didn’t have a freaky alien shield fighting me," John replied taking a deep breath. "Okay...expanding." He willed it to expand as far as he could and it was like trying do something complicated while holding on to an electric fence. By the time he finished his legs were feeling like giving out and he was more than clutching at Rodney, he was being supported by him and Carson on the other side of him. 

"Bloody hell, that's enough John. They won't find much if you collapse now," Carson was saying.

What was he talking about? He wasn't *that* bad. Was he? "Tell it to, John, Sheppard, tell it to hold the picture and Radek and I can take it from here," Rodney whispered against his ear. "Pretend you're still, you know."

Oh right. He nearly smiled. They were trying to look after him. That was a pretty novel experience. He set it on hold and then stopped trying to force it, which made things a lot easier, like he'd set down a heavy weight. But he stayed draped there. It wouldn't harm for Kolya to believe he was practically incapacitated. Of course the bastard might just not care.

"Perhaps there is a means of destabilising one of these points..." Radek said. "Interrupt energy flow and stable cycle collapse."

"Unless it causes an energy arc that kills whoever it probably manually trying to do it." Rodney twisted a little, not taking the display from John. "Also, we're still *how* far from the point? We need to get walking."

Walking. Okay. He could do that. Vaguely. Kolya was looking closely at the display, and then at him, and he wasn't sure what he saw but he backed away before ordering some of the soldiers ahead to scout out the trail. 

"Can you walk, John?" Carson was saying and it took a moment to register. Of course he could walk.

They seemed to have this crazy idea that if he pretended to be weaker than he was, Kolya might stop being hard on him. That wasn't how it worked, but right now he could stumble with the rest of them. "You look bloody awful," Carson murmured even as he settled in to being a make shift support.

"Great. Just keep telling him that," Rodney muttered from his other side. "I'm sure it's really helping him. Hey, Sheppard, is it helping?"

"Yeah." He huffed a laugh under his breath. "Wasn't like this before, hadn't counted on this." To be fair, he hadn't counted on any of it. Alien planets, all of that.

"Well you're as white as a sheet, and look ready to drop," Carson said "And that is a medical judgement."

"I'm not that bad..." John said trying to sound reassuring.

"Bullshit. You actually look like you were hit by a truck. But again, I don't think telling you that is very beneficial is all." Yeah, expect Rodney to bitch in any situation.

"Are you trying to think of way to destabilise force field?" Radek half-demanded from Rodney's other side.

"Yes, yes. I'll actually need to look at the equipment for a moment or two, no matter how nice our map is."

"It's a very good map," John repeated. "I think Idos is alive in there. There was just a moment when I felt something..."

"For god's sake don't tell Kolya, he'll have you banging your head against that forcefield trying to find out," Carson said. "How far is it anyway?"

"Couple of miles," John replied aware he was leaning quite hard on them.

"Whoo. Couple of miles. Okay." Rodney shifted, and stopped for a moment, before he pulled John's arm over his shoulder and clutched onto his hand. "There, that should help. You weren't using that arm, anyway."

This was just...weird. Faintly humiliating in one way, because he was an Imperial, and he'd be taught not to rely on anyone except his own team, but also nice because he'd had enough recently of feeling like this bad all the time.

"Guess not," he replied. "Thank you." He needed to remember they were freemen, and his job, his duty... And who was he kidding?

Even the best soldier got tired and needed help to keep going on.

"Not a problem. It's just two miles."

* * *

Two miles was a hell of a long walk.

Because it hadn't just been the two miles, it had been two miles of half-carrying John, and two miles of listening to Radek spout theory, and two miles of Carson giving everything that moved worried glances, and two miles of a metal collar rubbing against his neck, and two miles of pissed-off-ness, which amounted to at least ten mental miles of hell on top of the two that his body wasn't all that happy about walking in the first place.

It had been a relief when they'd reached the forcefield, except while everyone else settled down and made camp a little away from it, he and Radek got to circle the outside with Kolya bitching at them.

It really was impressive, and his mind was already flickering with the facts that told him this set of energy modulations was powered by something far beyond his naqadah generators.

"Come, Dr McKay. You have looked long enough. Perhaps you think we have unlimited time?" Kolya said, as he watched him take another reading. 

"Hey, if I fuck this up, Idos is going to be deader than if I take my time and get it right." There was a weak point in the field, but weak was still pretty strong in terms of energy fields. On the bright side, it was near one of the points that the energy flowed through.

"I do not appreciate your attitude Dr McKay," Kolya replied. "I do have the means to compel your cooperation."

"What Dr McKay is saying is, mistakes could be more dangerous than rushing headlong yes?" Radek replied. "The field is very strong and we may have to disable many things. It will take time General."

"A little time spent now will save, well, all of us from dying in what I'm sure is a colorful explosion." He clenched his jaw and *just* because the man had violated him, he wasn't going to bow and scrape and be scared of him, no he could do that later with his eyes closed but not then when it actually mattered. "Now please let me think."

"Oh, I will," Kolya replied. "Just bear in mind, the more time you are out here, the more time I have with your Major and Dr Beckett."

The threat was plain and direct but he did stalk away, Radek looking nervously after him, and then up at the force field. "This will not be an immediate job. This will not please him."

* * *

Having the undivided attention of General Acastus Kolya was turning out to be a very bad thing. John found himself wishing that he and Carson were back being forced to dig the latrine pit for the camp. That had been a lot easier than playing "who gets shocked with the collar next". So far, Carson was losing that game because Kolya could not and would not understand that just because he had the gene didn't mean he could work the scanner properly and seemed to think electrical reinforcement would help.

"Kolya! Stop, he can't do it," he interrupted again. Ironically the zap of the collar had cleared his head a little. "Stop with the collar! For Christ’s sake!"

"He's not *trying* hard enough," Kolya snarled, and god, okay, there was being torn up over a team-mate, and then there was a team-mate who was family. "He should be able to make it work just as much as you have."

Carson was practically curled up on his side after that last shock. This had been going on way too long, and he was shaking and he could barely get the thing to do a ten meter radius scan.

"Let me loose and I'll try again," John said eventually. "He doesn’t have the gene as strongly okay?"

He could see Carson trying to protest, his voice rasping. "No...no, John...you can't. It's dangerous."

"I don't think the general cares if it is dangerous or not," he replied to the still shaking doctor.

"You'd be right." Kolya turned towards John, spinning on him quickly, the compact thrust out at him after he snatched it from Kolya. "You two are miracle workers. So do it."

"It might surprise you to know that I'm pretty keen to find Idos as well," John said as he prepared to focus and push again as he had before. "But there's this shield that blocks everything in the way. When I do this, it's pretty much like running into a wall at speed. Just so you know. I doubt you care, but just in case you think it’s a fake."

"John, don't," Carson said and he sounded raspy and shaky. "This on top of everything else...who knows..."

He was focusing though and pushing a thought out to Idos, getting once again that merest flicker of something a contact before there was the grenade explosion in his head and he was somehow on the ground disorientated. He could see the toes of Kolya's boots near his head, and the compact was gone, probably retrieved already. "As fascinating a show as that was, you *did* manage to make contact with him." 

"I did?" John asked groggily. "Well, hey, you got your answer Kolya. You can stop with the shock collars now."

Carson was trying to move him somehow, to a more comfortable position.

"He looked very much alive, for the moment." Kolya didn't move back, didn't help or hinder. "I will expect you to reproduce the effort again in a few hours."

"General Kolya, there is no way Major Sheppard can do that," Carson protested on his behalf, trying to get him sitting and it was like he had a literal concussion from what he did.

"What he said...” John managed and he wished fervently for the migraine like pain to leave.

Kolya just closed the compact and pocketed it. "Four hours. The faster Doctor McKay finishes, the sooner you don't have to do that anymore."

"Commander Kolya! I need supplies!"

And there was Rodney. Great. John was failing totally in the staying upright stakes and Carson was too shaky to get to grips with him properly.

"I am in here Dr McKay," Kolya said and John wished, just wished he would go out of the tent so Rodney wouldn't know. Keep his mind clear."

"We need support beams, wenches, anything you have that we can use to lift a series of magnets up over the weak point. If we can unravel that, the whole field will fall apart, it's very pivotal that we... That we..." He kept talking while he marched into the tent, and stopped short when he finally saw John and Carson.

John could only guess that he wasn't looking too great, which was pretty much the story of his life at the moment, and he knew Carson wasn't looking good either. "Support beams... tell me, and we will provide what you require," Kolya said. "Your colleagues and I have been having a little talk. We'll be having another one in four hours in case that gives you motivation."

"We're working as fast as we can," Rodney said, eyes darting between Kolya and John and Carson. He lingered on them, and John could see his worry rise visibly. "I need more conductor coils. If there's any more to be had here."

"I will take you to the supplies," Kolya said getting up to leave with him. "We need to get in that shield as soon as possible."

John made an 'okay' sign with his hand to Rodney and jerked his head towards Carson and then tapped at his collar. It should be something the other man could read between the lines. Rodney tapped at his own collar and frowned questioningly at John, which was *not* what he'd wanted Rodney to do, but then he looked surprised, snapped his fingers and nodded.

Fortunately Kolya had been turning and reaching for the compact at that point, so had missed the blatant signalling and then ushered Rodney away. God only knew what Rodney thought he was saying. He didn't even know what he was saying right now because things were spinning and he felt stomach sick and the needle through the head pain was temporarily drowning out everything else. He stopped trying to hold it together the moment Kolya was outside. 

"Carson? You okay?"

"Aye. As well as I can be. Are you breathing all right? Seeing spots?" Concern and medicine mingled together while Carson pulled John's torso up against his own body, getting him somewhat upright and propped up.

"I haven't got a clue," John replied, grateful for the contact. "Yeah- kinda spots and lights and feeling ...really sick. And a migraine that won't quit." And the fact that getting up seemed an impossible dream. "Should've offered sooner. Saved you all that."

"I didn't think you had it in you," Carson murmured. There was a hand stroking his cheek, pressing over, ow, that was a new bruise. It had to have been from when he hit the floor. "I still don't think you did."

"Four hours from now is going to be a tough one," John said closing his eyes and allowing himself a rare moment of wallowing in the simple pleasure of contact. He wasn't sure if he could do it then either. "I'll start that one lying down I guess."

He couldn't let them do that to Carson so pointlessly.

He couldn't just let them hurt Carson, couldn't just let them *do* that when he wasn't even capable of getting the compact to work. Torturing him wasn't going to help and it was John's *job* to try to protect them. Which made the situation they were in bad enough.

"Aye well, why don't you concentrate on some sleep now," Carson murmured with a rough rasp in his voice which had to be from the repeated shocks. "Save your strength. I think everything will be fine for the next few hours."

He hadn't stopped stroking his skin and it would be so easy to just let go and give into it. Especially if Kolya was going to do this every few hours or so,

A little comfort wouldn't kill either of them, and Rodney wouldn't throw a fit over it. John was just trying to prepare himself for what was going to come, and they could sort it out when and if they lived through it.

One way or another he was determined to get them home. He didn't know how, he didn't know if he would make it with them, but that was his goal and people had done worse things in their life than save a couple of people in love. It would be a pretty good final thing to do if it came to that. But hopefully he'd get lucky.

* * *

It was like all the rushes he'd ever had from all nighters, but without the fun part. There was no delight found in the work he was doing with Zelenka, even if Zelenka was surprisingly easy to work with under such strained circumstances. He was competent, and Rodney didn't have to fully explain himself to have his logic picked up on and understood.

They were doing well, but when the weather turned to having night showers, they had to grab everything and make a run back to the camp. The equipment would not do well in the rain, even if the constructed frame work was fine getting soggy.

Kolya had not been terribly impressed but even he had to concede that the wet was not helping. What he did do was put them in the tent with John and Carson and make sure they saw that pretty much the entire Guard was watching them from the surrounding tents.

Unfortunately it looked like what he had seen earlier that day had not been all Carson and John had been through.

They both looked like the torture or whatever Kolya had been trying to do hadn't stopped just because Rodney had interrupted once, but he wasn’t going to say anything about it until the flaps to their tent were closed, leaving them surrounded but in relative privacy, for the moment.

Just not auditory privacy.

"Carson, John, what...?"

"You look like a drowned rat Rodney," Carson replied in a hoarse strained whisper. "And you Radek. Take off those wet things before you catch cold. Or whatever this world’s equivalent is."

John was sprawled next to him with make shift pillows, looking barely awake. "Wondered where you guys were."

"You happen to have clothes we can change into in here?" Rodney asked, frowning at their condition as he started towards them, pulling at his wet shirt.

Carson turned around and looked at into the bags. "Here. Hope it fits."

"It will be better than this," Radek said. "You are not looking well. Either of you. What has been happening?"

"Kolya likes to keep an eye on Idos. When John isn't awake, he thinks I should be able to do it with sufficient motivation," Carson said quietly. "But I can't."

"Because torture and fear motivates the strength of your genetics. I'm surprised no-one has thought of that brilliant theory before," Rodney muttered, and it didn't matter if they could hear or not. "Screw it, this is stupid and I'm wet, and tired and hungry, and you look like you've been through hell..."

"We saved you the food," John said interrupting him. "Come and get warm." He gestured to the both of them. "Can't do much right now but I can produce body heat."

"Aye, too much of it," Carson said, in a whisper of his usual soft brogue.

"I think as there is some light I will attach this coil," Zelenka said. "Especially as there are no equipment here to disrupt, yes?"

"Or rain," Rodney murmured, jerking his head at Radek so he'd follow him towards Carson and John's two-man puppy pile. "Don't tell me John has a fever..."

"Just a little one," John replied as Radek hummed something under his breath as he fiddled with things and then clicked the controls.

"We can talk now...but not loudly," he warned in a low voice.

"We need to unwire these things," Rodney whispered, kneeling down beside Carson. He should have been sleeping, but hell. He was too wound up and wet and cold and everything else to think about sleep.

"Do you think you can?" Carson said reaching up to him, his hand finding his damp curled hair.

"There will be tamper fail safes," Zelenka said. "There always are."

John looked them. "Then try mine. The zaps clear my head as much as anything."

Carson looked at him like he'd gone mad. "For god's sake John! Are you mad? Do you have some sort of martyr complex going on?"

"Yes," Rodney muttered, kneeling down to look at John's neck as much as anything when he shifted his attention from Carson to John and then back. "No. Your skin's swollen."

“Well you can't do it on yourself," John said trying to sit up. "So there is no option."

"And I am being ...chopped liver yes?" Zelenka said. "Easy option. He will do mine. Everyone fine."

"Not that you're eager to be unbugged," Rodney murmured, but he nodded. It was very logical, so he sat down beside Carson and John, and gestured for Radek to come closer. That way if someone looked in, they'd just look... fantastically queer, not suspicious.

"Yes. And if it works, then we can pick our moment to go," Zelenka replied shifting over. "Do your worse Rodney."

Carson rather unexpectedly moved over behind Zelenka. "Believe me if you get a shock you'll need someone to steady you," he whispered to them both even as John looked at them. 

He didn't want to hurt any of them but he had no choice and he started looking at the collar in detail, getting out his equipment.

It shouldn't take too long, but they didn't have too long. That was fine -- Rodney knew he worked better under pressure, knew that they were in a life or death situation and that was when he did his best work because he really preferred to be alive then dead. He could ponder everything that had happened and work though it when he got home, safe, to his apartment in Colorado. There wasn't time for shock and outrage.

"Just hold very still. If I jump the wrong parts..."

"Yes, yes..." Zelenka said. "They have used these sometimes in House discipline. Not on me, but..." He very nearly yelped as there was a snick of a charge leaking.

"Easy there..." Carson soothed in a soft voice. "Easy..."

"This is stupid..." John said in a low voice. "You need Zelenka to deal with the shield...."

"Shut up, working here." Rodney scraped the screwdriver over the connection, and there was a temporary connection that shocked Radek before it broke. Beautiful, easy, stupid simple solution -- breaking it in a way that it didn't look broken. Like a strand of unplugged in Christmas lights, Kolya wouldn't know the kind of disaster he was courting until he tried to plug one of them in.

Hah. There even as Zelenka coughed a little and then gave him a thumbs up. "Good work." he said even as Carson moved into place.

"Me next..." he said and when he looked, he realised this was going to be more difficult. Carson had very swollen and shock burnt skin making it difficult to get to the bits he needed to get to.

And he was going to have to shock him one more time. Rodney shifted closer, kneeling over one of Carson's thighs. "Just, just hold still. Don't talk, it might hurt..." Fuck, he didn't want to do it, didn't want to scrape the screwdriver over the connections he needed.

"It's okay Rodney," Carson murmured and it was John who pushed himself up to support him, with a familiarity that made Rodney wonder if this had been what it had been like all afternoon with Kolya.

"He's tougher than you'd think," John said and nodded.

"Shut up." He tried to say it lightly, almost sing-songed, gritting his teeth as he tripped a jumper to overload it.

The sound of Carson biting back a moan didn't help his nerves any and it had to hurt. Then there was John, and Zelenka would do his. Unless he got Zelenka to do it first.

No, John first, then him. He'd been shocked a lot less, and he didn’t want John to be shocked anymore if someone came in and interrupted it. Rodney broke across the last contact, hand jolting a little at the shock. That was why he never put his thumb on the bare metal of his screwdrivers.

Carson let him know he was fine by stroking fingers through his hair a moment before shifting so he could get to John. And he didn't think he had been consciously this close to John. He could feel the heat off of him, all the more startling because he was cold. He could see...he could see he was a mess. It was becoming more and more obvious the reminders that John had lost the frame-up fight and still he'd come after him. 

He wasn't really sure what to do with that sort of information.

He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with it -- apologize? -- other than bend in close to him and start to work on blowing out the jumper, and then break the connection. One step, two steps, cold clammy fingers pressed gently against swollen hot skin.

He flinched more at the cold fingers than the shock when it eventually hit him, and that just couldn't be right. John had to be the most fucked up guy he’d ever known and he was looking at him like *that* and...no, he didn't know what to do with that. Or his sudden conviction that John wanted nothing more than to turn a little and kiss him, but he wasn't letting himself do that.

He didn't let himself do anything. 

"Thanks Rodney," he murmured. "Your turn now."

"Yes, I have watched it enough. I see where you do it." Zelenka whispered. "Hold still."

"Sure." Like it was easy, when Rodney had the cheapest, easiest reactions to pain. If his pain reaction was a person, it would have been a two dollar whore, he decided as he clenched his teeth before Radek could even do anything.

It surprised him a little when John put his hand over his and Carson moved in then to support him.

"Nearly...nearly...ah..."

And the jolt when it came was sharp enough to make his throat feel like it had gone into a complete cramp, all at once.

Fuck. Rodney clenched his eyes tightly, and Zelenka was lucky that it left him unable to cuss, unable to snarl and bite at him for being an idiot

"There. It is done. Should we find a way to leave, we can do so without being shocked," Zelenka said with a sigh as he sat back.

"You are both still cold. Come and lie down between us," Carson said. "It won't do us any good if you two get pneumonia!"

"Not really." Rodney gestured for Zelenka to turn the jammer off. They could listen to their prisoners bitch and moan all they wanted. "I hate being cold *and* wet. Like one wasn't enough."

"Well, dry off with that blanket and come here." Carson instructed tossing it over to him and John was still watching even as he was lying down again. "Hopefully we won't be out in the wilds too much longer. Major Sheppard could use some medical care."

"You give me a shot, I'll be okay," John said rolling his eyes a little even has Carson hammed it up a little for the benefit of eavesdroppers.

"John, you're held together with drugs and dressings. Lord only knows what repeatedly getting mental shocks like that will have in the long term," Carson said and he sounded serious enough.

"You mean that Doctor McKay taking his shirt off is not a mental shock enough?" Zelenka was half undressing, too, though, trying to get dry. Rodney still wanted to throw the blanket at him for that.

"Har har, you little hairball. Just laugh it up."

Carson chuckled at that. "Aye, it could be. It could be the end of him."

"Hey, I'm Imperial...special training in seeing people naked," John chipped in and he was damn well smirking at him.

Rodney decided he was going to leave his pants on, but whether it would spite them or himself more, he guessed he'd find out. He wrapped himself up in the blanket, trying to pat himself dry before he passed it to Zelenka. "Funny, Lorne never mentioned it."

"Maybe he slept through those bits in training," John said even as Zelenka towelled off his hair and all three of them had to just stare a moment.

"That can't be natural," Carson said after a pause of staring at Zelenka's now fluffed out hair.

"There's no hair product on earth that could do that," John said as well.

"Yes, yes, I have hair that defies the laws of physics. It is why I went into the sciences to discover a cure for geek-hair," Zelenka grumbled.

"Huh." Rodney just stared, and then turned to awkwardly join John and Carson on the 'bedding', such as they were calling it. And he thought his hair was bad in the morning.

He ended up between Carson and John, and Zelenka went on the other side of John even as Carson curled in close to him.

Carson was warm, but John was definitely going to earn his pay as a human radiator on this night.

"Much better," Carson said. "And with any luck we will find Idos Kolya tomorrow and we can go home."

"I never thought I'd miss bad television." But he did. It was one of those things that stuck in his mind, and he shifted a little closer to both Carson and John before he closed his eyes.

There was a touch over his hair then, which had to be Carson and a soft voice that said "I'll get you all home, I promise..." which had to be John.

A nice thought, but he wasn't that hopeful.

* * *

He had no idea what Carson had injected him with, what pills he had downed to get him upright, but he was upright and moving, even if he felt like death warmed up. They hadn't had a long rest and he'd had to cooperate this time to prevent Kolya even trying a shock but he was here, trying to look normal and hell, that was taking a *lot* of focus. So much so, that he hadn't been paying attention to what Zelenka and Rodney were saying because they were doing their scientist thing as he and Carson stood with Kolya casually aiming his gun at them both. He needn't've bothered. The pair of them were oblivious to all but the problem.

"Here...position is correct now...and I will not be moving it *again* Rodney," Zelenka said. "I am correct in my calibrations."

"I didn't say your calibrations were *wrong*, just... flawed. They're based on a faulty premise, and if we turn it on now, we'll--"

"I hope the two of you have finished your arguing. We have wasted enough time -- you are going to bring the shield down *now*." That was Kolya, sounding like every pissed off commander John had ever had, and also like a six year old who wanted his favourite toy. It was kind of funny how the two types of men sounded so damned much alike.

Zelenka looked at Rodney, and shrugged. "You want to push the button?" he asked and John found himself amazed at their resilience. He'd underestimated the scientists - he was the one going under, not them. That was going to be very embarrassing when they got out of here. Hopefully he could persuade Idos just to let them go.

"You know what? Sure. At least it's the one thing around here that I'm sure won't take a charge when this all goes wrong," Rodney muttered, leaning forwards to do just that, Push the button. He was pretty sure Rodney was the sort who got glee from that.

He was also pretty sure that Rodney didn't often set himself up to be an idiot or look stupid and so he was possibly the only one who wasn't surprised when the glowing shield developed a rainbow distortion and then seemed to melt away.

"Well done Rodney," Carson said and Kolya was obviously feeling indulgent enough to not shock him.

"Major Sheppard, use the device again. Try not to fall unconscious again."

Yeah, great... he was all heart. He took the device and focused on Idos and, no barrier. There is was, a full visual map of where he was, and the area, and a lot of highlighted glowing areas.

"Have we got a direction?" Rodney started to gather up the equipment he could get a hold of, that they might need further on from the 'base camp'.

"Yes, Idos is that way but..." John was frowning staring at the images trying to get it to tell him what the problem was.

"You are stalling Sheppard," Kolya replied waving him forward with his gun.

"I am not," John replied. "These highlighted areas, scattered all over the place. It's pretty much impossible to get to where Idos is without going through them. There's something wrong with them."

"Perhaps is more shielding. Pocket shielding? If it does not over-arch like this one did, we could..."

"Or, it's underground," Rodney suggested. "Look, can we just get walking and see what's there when we get there."

"A good idea," Kolya replied. "You and Major Sheppard will take point."

Nothing surprising there then. Even so, John decided avoiding most of the highlighted area's would be best. "It's not a huge distance" he said and set off. Time was when he would've outpaced Rodney easy. Right now, if it came down to running he probably wouldn't make it.

Rodney might. Carson might. Zelenka looked like he knew how to run as if his life hinged on it, all right. 

He hadn't expected Rodney to slip an arm around him, behind his shoulders. "C'mon."

If he'd been able to concentrate and walk he would've resisted that just for prides sake, but that was pretty foolish. He accepted the support and guided them towards what appeared to be a building structure, weaving around invisible glowing marked area until the entrance was visible about ten meters away, and a glowing zone throbbed on the image. He stopped, instinct telling him not to go forward.

"What?" It wasn't a snappish what, but a worried what, and that coming out of Rodney's mouth was actually pretty funny.

"Here...there is something here. I'm thinking maybe we toss a rock in here? Or something?" John said reasonably. He narrowed his eyes and got a fleeting impression of something fast and mobile. "Huh...."

"Something alive? Something... huh, another energy signature," Rodney noted, leaning against John a little. "All right, rock it is."

John tossed a rock across the barrier and nothing seemed to happen at all. 

"Major Sheppard, you are stalling," Kolya said. "Do you want Dr Beckett to suffer?"

John looked around. "No, look, there's something here. The scanner is telling me that. "

"Then step forward and find out," Kolya replied

He grimaced a little. "Have your firearms ready then." And he stepped forward.

And nothing appeared to happen, apart from a prickling feeling in his skin as if something had just powered up.

That was either a good thing, or a bad thing, but he managed to get in and through it, and Rodney was following after him without a moment's pause.

Kolya seemed annoyed more than anything but all of them were inside before they had any warning of what it was that had been triggered. He caught sight of the glitter of metal and energy as an orb zipped around a corner midair, and orientated upon them.

"Now that can't be good," he murmured, and to his horror, lots of them were appearing on his schematics heading their way. "Oh, crap, down!" He pushed Rodney down as the orb fired on them hoping the men behind him had been paying attention.

Or that Carson and Radek had ducked, too. "What the hell is that?" Rodney demanded, rolling onto his back, typing away fast on the screen of his laptop. "There's no way..."

"Whatever it is, there is a lot more of them..." John said looking around for anything to fend them off with.

"Here, here!" Zelenka was jabbing at an area on Rodney's screen even as Kolya's men started firing back. "Radiating pattern here." Which was incidentally where Idos' life signs were pulsing. Great.

"Let's make a run towards it, then." Rodney pulled his screen back from Zelenka's fingers, and while on one hand it was a stupid idea, running headlong into possible danger it was also probably the best chance they had. Maybe Idos was controlling them, or.... Well, he was alive. Not dead. 

What he wouldn't give for a gun right now. "Okay, heads down..." he said scrambling up and started a run down the corridor trying to keep them behind him. Some sort of energy pulse and he heard a couple go down behind him but Rodney stayed with him, and they didn't have the luck to shake Kolya. His chest was burning as they rounded a corner and could see a dais with Idos apparently trapped on that level and a strange looking chair right next to it. 

Did he go closer, or-- "Rodney?"

"Go, go! It's..." Rodney stopped for a moment, and then stumbled forwards. "Jesus, it's ancient tech. You have the gene, go! It might have tried to activate it without the gene, and it's not like it's going to kill you any more than those THINGS."

He nodded and ran, hitting the next energy shield and pushing through it somehow where Idos had been trapped. It made him grit his teeth but he was there and he literally flung himself at the chair and things lit up around him and the faint touch of the scanner was nothing compared to the sudden grip of this new technology. It was like a firm, unyielding sensation of something like a hand wrapping around every organ and bone.

~Make it stop the attacking, make it stop the shield~ he thought at it and just like that, the drones deactivated.

The relief of it was almost palpable, and he could hear a last few pieces of gunfire from the Russians with them. "It worked." Rodney's voice broke with relief, while he stood there. "It worked."

"Aye," Carson said. "Major Sheppard, are you feeling alright?" he asked as he stepped away towards him and the now glowing chair.

That was definitely a difficult question to answer. The technology had a grip on him and it wasn't letting go. Something’s were easy and some hard. "Just peachy..." 

"Release Major Idos," Kolya demanded. "Immediately.”

"I'm trying..." And he was, but the ancient system was telling him that it really thought that these people were threats and he was having to constantly say, 'No'...no, no killing, no caging, no, stunning...stop that...'. It made getting a release a little tricky.

He could sense each thought as it came up, though, and cut it short. "It's ancient technology," Rodney noted to Kolya, and he was looking around for Radek and Carson.

"I want him out of there or must I provide motivation?" Kolya said. "Major Idos has been trapped here for some time."

"Perhaps it is looking for a code yes? Security protocols would need an override," Zelenka suggested. "Major Sheppard, you must look for an override."

"Yeah, well the damn thing is trying to override me right back," John replied. "It keeps trying to lock this place down completely." There it was, like an elusive slippery shape and he closed his eyes to try and concentrate a little more.

"Okay. Okay, you do that, and I'll..." He gestured at Carson towards Idos, because there was no question that the man was going to need medical attention for dehydration and hunger.

It was like finding a key in an oil slick, it hurt and he was probably making strange faces as he struggled and then finally persuaded the 'key' to function. He wondered how it was for real ancients, if the key was spinning and gold and immediately to hand or if it was even something they noticed. But he'd dropped in deep in the process, and with the unlocking, suddenly the system became a whole load more cooperative. Information started flooding into his mind even as he was aware of the shield dropping, and Carson moving forward. 

"Major Idos, let's take a look at you, I need to get some vitals. Oh..." 

Because when Carson said that, and he thought about what was needed, a holographic scan projected in front of them.

"O'Neill would shit himself to see this," Rodney whispered, staring at it, and John could half-way see him looking around. Rodney was probably looking for a power source or something.

The problem was, if he pulled a power source, then... then they were going to have a problem. All of them would be hauled back to Siberia and he needed them to gate back to the SGC. But there was an iris and they didn't make exception on the iris thing. They needed that down or to get through it.

And there it was, the ancient device telling him he could do that, he could dial the gate from here and hold it, and beam them through the iris. But to do that he needed to be in the chair and, yeah, he had to think of a plan to get Rodney and Carson and yeah, Zelenka, to the gate. Kolya was relying on the collars to control them. He could trap them if Idos was not going to give them passage home, hold them and... Yeah.

He looked at Rodney and faked a reaction, coughing and that fever had settled in his chest with a satisfying rattle that sounded worse than it felt right now. He definitely had a plan, now. With Carson busy with Idos, Rodney was fumbling off his laptop, coming over to John. "You can't let this facility kill us -- what do you need to concentrate?"

He coughed again and saw Carson look around in alarm. "I could use...use you." He said it very hoarsely. God, he never thought he'd use this cliché, but Rodney should've seen enough bad science fiction to realise what he was doing . He hoped. "Rodney...." He let it fade off, rather dramatically if he did say so himself.

Rodney leaned down close to him, finally, close enough that John could lean up to whisper to him a vague idea of the plan. "Hey, we'll, uh, probably be home soonish, and..."

"Rodney, get Carson away from them a moment. Make something up about me," John murmured. "And Zelenka. I'll shield them in, you run to the gate. I can dial the SGC and beam you guys through the iris. They used energy shielding. I'll hold them until you come back. Or something... okay?"

Rodney didn't answer him, but he did step back. "Carson! He needs another shot of whatever wonder drug you've been giving him. Zelenka, get over here and help me with these readings, he says he can't control the weapons systems much longer..."

He just hoped Rodney had fixed the colours otherwise they were screwed.

"I'm not sure if I can give him another shot," Carson was saying even as he looked over him.

"Dr Beckett, you should be concentrating on Major Idos," Kolya replied.

"Aye well, as I understand it if John passes out in this thing, those wee star wars prop things there will pop back up," Carson said. "And here's me without my lightsabre."

"Just a second," Rodney snapped over his shoulder at Kolya. "I'd rather not die here, and I'm sure you'd like the Major there to survive, so let's not..." Rodney gestured one hand circularly. 

Carson stepped away from them and Zelenka as well, and that was the space he needed. He released the thought he had been holding onto and energy shields shot up around the Russians.

"Holy crap," Carson started. "John?"

"Get to the stargate," he said, trying to focus. "I'll hold them here." He could manage that, he was sure. "I'll dial and send you to the SGC."

"Don't worry," Rodney cut in, grabbing Carson's arm, "We're not going to go splat." His eyes were on John, though, worried -- not doublechecking to make sure John wasn't lying. He trusted him. After everything that had gone wrong, Rodney trusted John. 

He nodded even as Kolya shouted at them. "Lower this shield Major Sheppard, or I will send lethal shocks to one of your companions!"

"You think I'd risk them?" John replied. "If I could trust you to be honourable Kolya. I would've let Idos pay off his debt by sending us home. But you'll never let us go now. Not after what you have done. So, Rodney, Carson and Zelenka are going home. And you'll be keeping me company for a bit until they are safely home."

He hoped he could hold them that long.

"So the splatting possibility?" Carson said faintly.

"If I control the gate from here, I can beam you through it. Trust me," John replied. He could see Kolya swearing at his controller that was failing. "Go. I'll wait for you."

"We'll be back with reinforcements," Rodney promised, and he jerked his head at Zelenka before he started towards the Gate with Carson in tow.

He never felt more alone as he did then when they left. Truth was, he wasn't sure how long he could hold the shield, after he did what had to be done to get them home. But they would be home, they would be safe and it was possibly the SGC wouldn't send anyone back and that was okay too. 

He ignored Kolya's threats, his mind tracking with them back to the gate. By the time they got there he was sweating with the effort of what he was holding and with the energy drain that seemed to get worse and worse.

By the time they reached the gate, he was more than ready to get them to safety because he was going to have to drop their shields soon.

He focused, concentrated, imagining Rodney's expression when he dialled remotely, seeing sensor images of them standing at the gate and then with a deep breath manipulating the energy stream to materialise a good meter the other side of the iris. He just hoped he'd made it happen the way he felt he had.

If he hadn't, they were all going to die.

Rodney stepped through anyway once the wormhole had been established.

And he just hoped he had been right to seize this moment, to do what he had because right now, he wasn't feeling that good. He just had to hope that maybe they might come back for him, otherwise he was going to die in this chair.

* * *

Carson had a churning mixture of hope and of despair as they ran for the gate. No matter what John was doing and how he was doing it, he was very sure that doing complex things would end up with John in a hell of a state and he wasn't entirely sure he could focus enough to get them home.

But Rodney seemed to believe in him implicitly even as they watched the gate remote dial.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked even as the event horizon rippled in front of them. "I mean, John wasn’t looking so well."

"All the more reason to go through *now*," Rodney pressured, and he gave Carson a little shove but didn't force him forwards. Instead, Rodney tromped forwards, because of course he was comfortable with Gate-travel, leaving Zelenka and Carson behind. 

"It is as safe as any gate travel, and I believe that urgency is of the utmost at the moment."

"Rodney is right. And if we go back, you face death or experimentation. So would Major Sheppard." Zelenka said. He followed on and Carson hurried to catch up, unconsciously screwing up his face as he followed Rodney through and...

"Don't shoot!" he said in alarm as he saw that there were marines, lots of marines lined up and a hair trigger away from opening fire. He looked around wildly and settle on a familiar face. "Major Lorne, you know who we are."

Rodney had his hands held up, already in a state of surrender. "I'm Freeman Rodney McKay -- you bastards were the ones who sent me to Siberia, you shouldn't act surprised that things have gone to hell and we've had to escape back here! They're holding Major Sheppard in an ancient off planet location." Rodney's voice broke a little, or maybe it was Carson's imagination.

"Jesus, would someone stop pointing those at me?"

"I am thinking that they are possibly pointing them more at me," Radek said his hands automatically raised. "I am a stranger to them. And we have just apparently beamed through a solid iris."

That was a good point. Carson had his hands raised as well. "Well, they are most likely going to want to test us as clones or something, " he said. 

"Damn right we are," a voice said from the doorway and Carson looked up to see Colonel Jack O’Neill. "You sure that's them?"

"That certainly looks like Dr McKay and sounds like him," the blonde woman said next to him. Ah, Rodney's Samantha Carter.

"Oh, fantastic -- look, I brought you a brilliant Czech scientist, too, but I'd like to go back to get Major Sheppard so we can completely write off this fiasco which I'm now sure is *entirely* your fault," Rodney decided, pointing towards Samantha. Well, if anything it would further convince them that it *was* Rodney. "Because there was no way that you people couldn't have known that the House in charge of the Naqadah project was, oh, *full of crazy*?"

"House Kushlevkya?" Sam Carter asked frowning. "There's nothing crazy about them. We've had a good working relationship with them."

"You think I'm brilliant?" Radek asked looking at Rodney and Carson nearly snorted. "No, really, I want to know?"

"Kushlevkya is *not* in control. It's House Kolya, whose head and heir are also trapped in that base with Major Sheppard. It's a long story, and I can tell it in triplicate for you *after* we get him out of there. And maybe after we get these damned collars off. After all that rain, the lock's probably rusted on..." Rodney reached a hand up to absently pull at it, still staring challengingly at Carter.

"Whoa, whoa there," Colonel O'Neill stepped forward. "You know, we have this thing here....about checking people to see if they are clones, or duplicates or robot versions of ourselves or been implanted with some sort of bomb. Because, y'know, that happens around here. On a disturbingly regular basis. And General Hammond gets a little twitchy when people cut through his defenses like hot knife through butter."

"We are the real us," Carson felt he had to explain. "And Major Sheppard is in need of our help. We need some of you to come back with us."

"Let's look for alien influence first. It's a personal thing," Jack said. "Besides, I've heard of Kolya. And if it is him, we can't just go rushing in there."

"Yes you can! John has the *gene*, and he's in an ancient control chair keeping them encased in energy shield. Except we've had a pretty rough couple of weeks and he's not going to be able to do it for much longer!" They had to have looked a sight, Carson decided.

"And when General Kolya gets out, he will..." Zelenka made a neck-wringing motion with his hands as he stepped closer to Carson and Rodney. Probably for his own safety.

"Major Sheppard is an Imperial, he'll know we have to do this," Colonel O’Neill said. "Sooner you get checked out, the sooner we can go after him. "

"If he dies, I'm going to have your Imperial head on a platter," Rodney snapped, and oh, lord, Carson wished he hadn't heard the anger that was under Rodney's tone.

"You think that's likely?" Sam Carter was asking him and Carson felt he had to answer.

"I'm afraid it was a possibility. Major Sheppard has had a very difficult time physically, since we went to Siberia," and he didn't care if it sounded reproachful. "And a few days ago when they forcibly abducted Rodney, he was beaten severely and I had been giving him stronger drugs than I would've liked. Add to that the fact that he was forced to use an ancient device in very difficult conditions and was running a substantial fever... well, I dread to think what the impact will be on him of trying to manage to control that ancient device."

He was trying to scare the SGC staff into acting, but instead he looked like he was scaring Rodney and Zelenka more.

"Which is why a team needs to go after him *now* -- *we* don't need to go, Carson, Radek, me, you can keep us here and scan us to your heart's content!" It was angry and pleading, and somehow it was a little heartening that Rodney was getting that worked up for John.

But he wanted to go back, because he knew John needed careful handling because he had damaged kidneys and a kidney infection without a shadow of a doubt. "Okay, we'll assemble a team, but we're not going *anywhere* until I say so. " Jack ordered gesturing them to start moving under escort. "Infirmary. Dr Fraser will be delighted to see you."

He moved over and put his arm around Rodney. "Let's go Rodney. We'll go back for him. He'll...he's as stubborn as they come."

"Because we all know how successfully stubborn *corpses* are," Rodney muttered. He let Carson do that, though, as much for Carson's sake as his own, likely. Rodney's mouth was pulled down miserably.

"He's managed to hold together for us until now," Carson murmured, still touching him and wishing somehow he could make things just be right. John didn't deserve to be left behind, and he didn't want to be the one surviving at the cost of someone else’s life. "He'll hold on. Then we'll get him back here to the infirmary and... he'll be fine."

Eventually.

Assuming they got to him while John was still alive, he'd be fine, given time and rest and an opportunity for healing. And they'd all be fine, *and* Doctor Zelenka was with them, so everything had worked out, hadn't it? Except where it hadn't, and they were still wearing collars, being marched through the halls like *they* were aliens.

Carson supposed, if he stretched his understanding a little, he could see their point. He was pretty sure there was a whole layer of ranking Imperials crapping themselves at the fact that there was technology out there that could get around the shield like it was cobwebs or something. But Rodney was right, it wasn’t fair. They wouldn't be in this situation if it weren’t for the powers-that-be at the SGC. John wouldn't be hitting that self-destruct button so hard, Rodney wouldn't've been raped. He wouldn'tve spent the afternoon choking around the shocks of his collar.

"So tell me again how you seemed to materialise beyond our shield?" O'Neill asked again as they were escorted.

"Sparkly ancient shielding technology -- I'm sure they occasionally had to override their own gate shields, and it was what I'd guess had been an Alpha site made for last stands, with the sheer amount of weaponry it had." Rodney wiggled his fingers a little while he talked down to O'Neill.

Oddly Jack didn't look at all offended. "See that? Proof that explanations don't have to be technobabble," he said to Carter.

"A genuine ancient outpost?" Sam said her eyes lighting up. "But how was Sheppard able to..."

Oh, they didn't know Sheppard was an ATA carrier. "Major Sheppard has proven to have the gene. As strongly as Colonel O’Neill. He could work many different devices I could not activate. And because of that, Kolya is unlikely to want to leave him. Or the outpost."

"Dr McKay is correct," Zelenka said. "It was heavily protected. We are thinking that the Heir to house Kolya tripped the safety protocols. He was trapped for nearly a week -- everyone else with him died. But Acastus Kolya... he would not let *anyone* get in the way of rescuing him. Only, there has to be an ancient power source there yes? There was a full shield that covers the area of a small town. Drone killers as well."

"We had to break the shielding with some very fancy electromagnets at a weak point in the energy pattern just to get in, and then there were the drones..." Rodney lifted a hand up to his neck, and pulled at the collar again. "Does one of you have wire cutters or something to get these off? Because I'm pretty sick of wearing it."

"As soon as we're sure they won't take your head off," Jack said as they filed into the infirmary under guard. "How many men did they have with them?"

"Six, not counting ourselves and Kolya, and Commander Idos. These collars aren't going to take our heads off, or they would have done that when I disabled them earlier today!" Rodney snapped it, and Carson could feel his muscles go tense.

"Easy..." He murmured. "Look, Colonel O'Neill, we're really worried about Major Sheppard. And frankly, the state he is in is down to his posting in Sibera and a fairly unique ability to interact with ancient technology. You need him and... he made sure he didn't leave any of us behind, and we're pretty uncomfortable with leaving him behind."

"I get the message," Jack replied. "Okay, get the collars off. Major Lorne, assemble a team and be on standby."

"Yes sir!" Lorne replied.

"Has anyone seen Teal'c or Daniel?" Jack asked randomly as they were all poked and prodded. "Dammit, he keeps doing this. Never find them when I need them."

"I am here O'Neill," Teal'c said seeming to appear silently from thin air. Zelenka nearly yelped.

"My god, it's a, a...!" Apparently just because one was Russian Stargate didn't mean that they'd actually met anyone from offworld. Culture shock twice over, but they could deal with it later.

"Good guy," Rodney cut in. "He's one of the good guys."

Teal'c was looking at them in that implacable way Carson recognised from the aftermath of a fair few off world trips. He'd done some analysis on his tissues which turned out to be disturbingly similar to earth human DNA.

Dr Fraser was taking blood from all of them, with a speed and efficiency that he greatly admired. He smiled a little when she came to him "Hello Janet," he said hoping to smooth the way of things.

"Hi yourself Carson," Dr Fraser said. "You've lost weight."

That was probably the nightly workout with Rodney, or thereabouts. "Aye. The cold up there, burning off calories." He couldn't help but glance at Rodney though.

"Or the bad food. Or the fact that we've spent the last week in *hell*, or..." Rodney tugged at the collar again. "Look, I'll take it off myself. Someone get me scissors, a box cutter, an exacto knife -- *anything*."

And Rodney was not the person to look to at the moment for silent conversation, apparently, because he was just barely sitting on the hospital examination table at all.

The stupid thing was that Carson knew what they had to do. He knew they had to do the tests, he knew they wouldn't send men into a possible trap, or throw lives after one person who was....in John's own sadly proven estimation, pretty expendable. 

He was reasonably quiet during the examination and scans but his frustration boiled. And Rodney, well by the time they were waiting for their blood results, Rodney was beside himself because it had been hours and they had promised to come back, but...

John would think they weren't, and it killed him to think that and imagine him lying there.

After he'd gotten them through it, after he'd tried to rescue Rodney, nevermind fighting all those challenges for him, and after everything they'd done to get there... John would think they'd abandoned him. If he wasn't already dead.

And the longer it went, the more that Rodney turned into a tight wound ball of nerves, the more that Zelenka seemed... strangely at ease with what was going on.

Perhaps he hadn't believed that they would try and take him with them even though John had promised they had promised. Or maybe there was something else. 

Zelenka was looking at the clock on the wall even as they waited, their necks mercifully collar free. His neck looked terrible, as if he had been attacked by a geriatric vampire or something ridiculous. Rodney had had a full examination and had returned, tight lipped and grim even as Dr Fraser looked uncharacteristically serious. It had to be the evidence of sexual abuse. He could've told her that.

Not that it fell within doctor patient confidentialities if he had, but... At least if he had, then perhaps Rodney wouldn't be so grim and red-cheeked looking as he sat down beside Carson again. "Maybe they'll finally get a move on now that they've examined us all.”

"I hope so." Carson said aware he sounded defeatist and sighed even as he patted his arm gently. 

"It would be a good time soon." Zelenka said. "Now is Siberian gate time. Possible that they go home yes?"

Carson froze. "What?"

Possible they went home, but also possible that if John had broken they were taking him with them.

"Or that if Sheppard's still in command of his facilities," and Rodney made a vague gesture up near his temple, "That he sent *them* back to their home gate?"

"Look, I don't mean to worry you but he really was very badly injured in that clash with the fighter," Carson replied. "You felt how hot he was when we woke this morning."

Truth was he'd been like a furnace compared to the rest of them.

Which had been beneficial for Rodney and Zelenka, but a lot less beneficial for John himself. "Yes! Yes, I know, he's sick, he's dying, you've had him strung out on drugs since you *found* me, but there's not a whole lot I can do about it right now!"

"Rodney, no one is blaming you for anything," Carson said. "I'm just saying the chance of him being coherent enough to focus on that is diminishing rapidly okay?"

Rodney really was very unhappy about this.

"Fantastic! I can't do *anything* about it," Rodney snapped back, but he leaned into Carson a little. "I hate this."

"I know love," Carson murmured. "But we will go back for him as soon as we can. Hopefully when the blood results are in. We don't have to go back with them you know..."

"Which is why I don't understand why they haven't send men *without* us," Rodney sniped quietly. That was better, somehow, that Rodney was easing off from the snapping, peaking and falling quickly.

"Because we could be sending them into a trap at worst, or at best to some unknown defense technology and eight unhappy Russians with semi-automatic weapons and a possible hostage." Carson murmured. He knew how this worked. "I don't think they realised what situation they were sending us into."

"They thought a completely different House controlled operations! What kind of shitty intel is that? When we got there, it was House Kolya's mark over everything, and we were there in 24 hours." Rodney shifted a little closer, sagging.

"But Dr. Jackson was negotiating with their Imperial command," Carson said. "It's not an excuse, just a reason. A reason for the compensation I am going to be applying for on behalf of all of us, but I am not letting you be...hurt and everyone just pretend something didn't happen. "

"I'll take the money and chrome everything in my office." That was a bitter mutter, and Rodney jostled him with his shoulder. "Or take John to Vegas. You, too. Somewhere."

Carson exhaled. "You're really worried about him aren't you?" he asked in a soft voice. He was more than worried because he was the only one with the medical knowledge to know what he was talking about and showing that was not going to help calm things down.

"Yeah. He's... he's a good guy. I don't want him to be dead." But it seemed like more than just not wanting him to be dead. "He's smart, and he's bent over backwards to protect us, and..."

"And he really has a thing for you," Carson said even though he knew it was a stupid thing to say because if they admitted it he might be putting the last nail in any the coffin for any relationship hopes he had with Rodney. Because if it was a choice between him and John, even he'd pick John.

"Me? You have to be kidding." Rodney leaned against Carson a little more. "Of course, if this is some bizarre plan to dump me, you're going to have to try harder."

"Well, yes Rodney, I conspired to have John have the ATA gene and be ridiculously good looking and well..." Carson exhaled. "I don't want to dump you. I just know you could have the choice if we get him back and I tend not to compare well."

"We can pretend to have this talk sometime that my brain isn't trying to escape my skull." Rodney stated it firmly at them both. "And it's not if. We'll get him back, or I'm going to have a lot of people's heads on plates."

Dr Fraser came back in as Carson was about to speak. "Well the good news is that you are cleared. You appear normal for you."

"Well, thank you Janet," Carson replied with a gentle sarcasm.

"And, they are about to do a gate team back to try and get your Major Sheppard back," Dr Fraser said. "If you want to be in on it...you better head to the gate room. Otherwise I'm holding on to you now.”

"I'm cleared to go?" Rodney asked, and he sat up a little, leaning forwards. Of course he'd want to go to analyse the readings or to just see John get home safely.

"Let's put it this way, I have experience in failing to stop people from doing stupid things," Janet replied. "So..."

"They should have at least one medical person with them," Carson said even though he felt exhausted and tired and wanted nothing more than to just curl up with Rodney and keep him safe. They were only safe because of John, so...

So it all came full circle.

Rodney stood up, and while neither of them probably looked like they were up to it, they were standing and Rodney was at least dressed in, well, no, they couldn't go off-world like that. Not in scrubs. "Great! Get your kit, Carson, and let's go."

He got up from the infirmary bed and was grateful when Dr Fraser handed him a pre-packed kit.

"I want you both back in here the moment you get him back mind," Dr Fraser instructed. "Or else."

"She generally means it," Carson confided as he threw some of the clothes that still stank but would do the job in the short term.

"Yes, yes." Rodney straightened out the clothes he'd come in, and seemed to be either waiting for Biro to leave before stripping off, or waiting for *Carson* to leave.

Dr Fraser took the hint, but Carson hesitated. "You want me to leave ?" he asked a little uncertainly

"Hmn? No, no, just..." Rodney pulled the loose white shirt off, and pulled his dirty shirt from before back on. "I'll freak out about it later."

"So will I," Carson said knowing he meant it. "I love you Rodney and ...I won't leave you alone with this okay?"

Rodney shot him a bit of a sideways glance, and then nodded vaguely. "Sure. Whatever 'this' is."

Carson patted him gently on the arm and handed him clothes until the pair of them looked just as rough as they had when they had come barrelling in through the gate way too many hours before.

Eventually Carson exhaled and looked around. "Let's go, I don't want to be left behind this time."

"Right." Rodney's face was set grimly, but he turned to leave first. They could only do their best, and he was sure the Imperials were still doing their equipment checks. They'd make it to the gate in time.

There was no telling if they'd get to John in time.

* * *

There'd been a few times when John had understood why people called it falling ill. It was so fast, so amazingly rapid from being functional to feeling like he was a candidate for an Imperial memorial ceremony that it was like plummeting from a great height.

He tried to maintain his focus by thinking of stupid epitaphs for himself. But they were all pretty depressing and stupid and his attention became more and more difficult as his fever shot up.

Fact was, he couldn't maintain his control any more. He needed to pretend he was doing this voluntarily and to see if he could mind his *own* shield if he dropped the others. 

They would write him off as an unacceptable risk. Why wouldn't they? But he wasn't going back with the Kolyas.

He let their shields drop, raising one close to himself.

The proximity shield was easier to hold up, maybe something he could maintain subconsciously. The chair accepted him, wanted him there, he could feel that -- why wouldn't it help him protect himself?

"Major Sheppard..." Kolya was coming closer and he wished he wasn't. John made an effort to try and appear to be lying down casually, as if it was choice not necessity.

"Now Carson and Rodney are safely home, there's no need for your shield."

"I have noticed that. You are coming back with Idos and myself, as repayment for the loss of my men." He had Idos at his side, still, and that was good. The man was barely standing and he definitely needed medical aid.

"No, I'm pretty comfortable here thanks," John replied quietly. "Idos..." God, he was glad Idos had made it because he had been someone who had filled a gap for him. "Idos, you should go home, get to a doctor. Seriously."

"You think?" There was a wry note in his voice -- if he lived long enough, outlived his father, he'd probably make a great head of House Kolya. Idos was barely standing, and even the arm he had slung over General Kolya's shoulders was trembling with the effort. "Acastus..."

"He is our key back home."

"I'm not your fucking key anywhere," John said with as much vehemence as he could muster. "Look, Kolya... you set me up, you made spurious charges, hit me with a trained professional fighter, abducted my Freeman, raped him, tortured us. You are so far in the shit right now it's impossible. Just... go home. Really. Go home. Idos needs more water than you've got in your pocket."

For a moment, he could *see* the anger on Kolya's face. It was there, in his eyes, in the curl of his mouth, and then it faded back. "Dial the gate for us, and we'll go. Or else we'll have to wait for one of my men to dial back in."

He might double cross him, but he didn’t really care that much. "I'll dial, I'll get you home. We came here for Idos, and hey, I'm glad we found him," he said and grimaced as things started to rather insistently hurt. "I understand why you did what you did. Doesn't mean we couldn't have had things differently without the really unpleasant stuff. Head to the gate, and I'll get you home."

"You..." He shook his head, and started to walk off, taking Idos with him. "I hope for your sake that we do not meet again, Sheppard."

"Somehow I don't think there is any danger of that Kolya," John replied. He could....slip. He could let them die. Crush them against their own shield. But to get Kolya, he'd have to kill Idos and he had the memories of someone touching him, caring about him when things hurt too much. When there wasn't anyone else. He wasn't going to destroy him to pay back his father.

No, when they finally got to the gate, he kept his part of the bargain at least.

He was better than Kolya, even if it was a close thing. Even if he'd been tempted, even if he'd *wanted* to, because one of those lives was worth something even if he didn't think that Kolya's wasn't worth shit.

And once they were through, he relaxed again.

He couldn't get out of the chair. If he did that it would activate the defenses and now, after hours in the chair, he couldn't out run a damn thing. He couldn't do a damn thing except let his thoughts wander deliriously.

John wanted to go home.

And in thinking that there above him started floating holographic representation of routes to Earth. Solar system spinning and spinning and points glowing around the achingly familiar globe. 

He drifted into the lulling noise of the Chair whispering all its secrets to him. There was something on Earth. Something important, just out of reach...

"Major Sheppard?!"

He had to be imagining that because everything was sounding pretty echo-y and the breathing? Not so good right now. His body felt like lead but his mind was drifting and spinning out there with the images of earth. The cold chill of snow and flicker of the aurora in the sky. Yeah. He'd like to go there.

Had that been Rodney's voice? Why was Rodney here instead of safe?

He forced his eyes open, trying to bring down his shield.

"Major Sheppard! If you're alive in here, answer!" There was another voice, less familiar but it made John's attention perk up. There were other people there. More than Rodney.

The drones were stirring again and he was hard pushed to quell them. They stuttered up and then fell again.

"That's got to be him Rodney," Carson's voice said.

"You know, if there had been enemy imperials here, yelling like that might’ve been a problem," said another voice. Colonel O'Neill. Hey, he rated a rescue by SG1. Who said he wasn't important?

His speaking was barely more than a whisper. "Here."

"When I last saw them they were in interesting shielded boxes, Colonel." Rodney managed to sound snotty even when he was in a rescue mission -- and hey, they were *rescuing* him, or trying to. "Carson, did you hear that?"

"I heard something... here, through here..."

"Look, could you two at least let us pretend it was worth our while coming along?" Jack O’Neill sounded sarcastic. "Sam, Teal'c you mind clearing the room for our would be heroes?"

"Of course O'Neill." And that had to be Teal'c.

"Where the hell has Daniel gone?"

He nearly laughed. He had that sort of problem too.

"I don't know. He's probably off translating the walls." Soft sciences, he could almost hear Rodney thinking that in a mutter. John didn't know how they'd get him out of there, but.

"Here..." he tried again and this time it was a little louder and above him the solar system spun and danced.

He heard people enter the room and immediately heard an intake of breath. "Sir? You need to see this."

"Well, as soon as Dr Beckett moves, I might actually get to do so."

"Sorry Colonel....it's pretty....oh."

"Daniel is going to have kittens." He heard that even before there was a yell of "Daniel! The walls will be there later. This may not be."

"Major!" That was Rodney's voice, pitching towards ecstatic. "And look, no Russians. We need to work out how to get him out of the chair..."

They'd come back. He couldn't believe it. It wasn't even a secret that he'd thought he was going to die here.

"Hey, Rodney." He managed, and the shield around him just dropped because there was no threat just a need to see him, to have him closer.

"I think we might need to power down," Sam Carter was saying. "Major Sheppard can you get up?"

He didn't think he could. Everything was so shaky and unsteady that John didn't think he could even move to sit up, or even lift his arms off of the chair's arms. 

"Hey. Do you think we can get out of here without getting bombed to death?"

"Only if you pull the plug," John replied and swallowed. How long had it been? Everything was hurting.

"We could try that," Sam said tentatively, even as he felt Carson's cold hands touch him and he shivered.

"Oh...Oh... " Dr Jackson, John presumed.

"We can pull the plug," Rodney confirmed. He inched closer to John, pressing spots on his laptop.

"Wait, wait," Dr Jackson interrupted. "It's showing Earth..."

There was a pause and eventually Jack said, "My geography sucks but even I can see that Daniel."

"Yes, well you have to see the significance. These marked areas, look. Here and over, look, don't you see it?"

"I'm getting old, my eyesight is fading," Jack replied. "Humour me."

"Sacred sites, see? That is Glastonbury. Over here, Easter Island."

"I'm not knowing any in Antarctica," Sam said.

Antarctica. He drifted onto that and it focused in on it.

"That, looks like something out of a sixties scifi movie," Rodney remarked. "I've *seen* those designs in records the Asgard have..."

There were things that looked like power bars that were at an ominous looking red but all of a sudden scrolling spiral ancient text scrolled out. It was like reading something in a dream for John. He knew what it *meant* but he couldn't focus on the words. Fortunately Daniel had no such trouble.

"Huh... Defense Outpost of... Atlantus? Atlantis!"

"Oh crap, I'm never going to hear the end of this." Jack muttered.

"Look, I'm sure this is fascinating, but Major Sheppard is very unwell," Carson said, rather suddenly breaking through. "Whatever it is can wait until he is recovered."

"By which Carson means, not-dying," Rodney cut in. His attention was down on his keys, studying his laptop. "I am not sure I can disengage the chair."

"There has to be a power source for this place," Sam replied looking over his shoulder. "Even if we remove Major Sheppard, if we don't power down, we risk the Russians coming back."

"Turn the damn thing off Sheppard," Jack said. "That's an order."

He tried, he really did. But nothing. "Sorry sir."

O’Neill shrugged. "Didn't expect that to work really. Try thinking about power sources then as you seem to have a computer in your head. " Obediently he did so and the schematics for a rather odd looking crystalline formation replaced the spinning solar system.

"Huh." Rodney took a step backwards, staring up at it, and then anther backwards step. "Okay, it looks like it's..." and then he started to walk off.

John waited and then suddenly it was like someone had literally severed something vital from him as he felt everything the Chair had been suppressing rush back in a dizzying surge. He moved, yelled did something but there was a feeling of everything draining away including himself.

"Easy John, easy... I've got you." Carson was murmuring. "What did you do Rodney?"

"Took out the battery! My god, you have to see this -- I'm going to be the first one to test it!" 

And while John wanted to be excited for Rodney, but Carson was touching him with cold hands, and he had no energy at all.

Everything hurt now. Breathing hurt and was damn hard, like someone was sitting on his chest, his back was a sheet of fire radiating from his lower back. He hadn't realised how much the Chair had been damping.

He felt himself struggle to breathe and closed his eyes.

"Crap..." he heard Carson mutter. "He's dropping his vitals rapidly. We have to go now. Right now!"

"Go, go! We'll secure the location, Doctor Beckett and you two, get them to the gate!"

He felt hands on him and the first jolt of movement was enough to bleach out thought, out everything as he finally just let everything go. He'd hung on long enough and they'd even come back for him. It meant nothing except in his own head and there is meant enough that he could just let go now.

If he woke up, maybe then he'd figure out what it all meant.

* * *

Nothing should have broken him from his concentration.

And by nothing, Rodney really meant, nothing short of a nuclear explosion over the mountain that would collapse civilization and send the denizens of the mountain into a swirling doomsday panic the likes of which Rodney had only seen, oh, two or three times, there and Area 51.

He had an *ancient* power source to finish analyzing. There were freemen who would have given limbs, who would have sold themselves BACK to the government to get a chance at it, but Rodney was lingering in the infirmary's entrance, with a coffee mug and a sandwich in hand so he could at least feel like he was only pissing away his lunch-break.

John was still there, and still hadn't woken up and he'd watched Carson and Dr Fraser discussing things with very grave expressions that made it really difficult to focus where he should've been hip deep in equations.

He was to a certain extent anyway but this was bugging him. John had seemed indestructible, even for his visits to the Infirmary, but he'd never forget that terrifying trip back to the gate when John's breathing failed, and Carson used the biggest needle on earth to get his heart going again and it was all happening there in front of Rodney.

And all the while, Rodney had a nagging feeling that things weren't supposed to go that way. There was always the possibility that it *wasn't*, and that that was where his timeline diverged from some more dominant reality heuristic, but... but it came down to John being unconscious in the infirmary, and Rodney not knowing what to do. Or more, he knew what he could do and it was nothing at all.

He didn't like the talk of them retiring John, and even less the talk of trying to get John classified as a Meta so he would be collared for life.

"Hello Rodney," Carson said as he spotted him. "How's the holy grail of physics?"

'"Slow." Actually, it was coming along amazingly, but if he was there and he said that, then he'd have some explaining to do. Except, if they collared John as a Meta, then they'd have to collar O'Neill and Carson, and half the Mountain to varying degrees.

"Dr Fraser told you that you should be getting more rest. You didn’t sleep that much last night."

Not even with Carson holding him, tangled together. His brain hadn't been quiet since Russia, and that was what Rodney needed to sleep, to really sleep. There was Carson's healing neck, and Radek's adjustment and working out terms with the SGC, and oh, John in a coma, never mind... anything else. "I'm not really a napping in the middle of the day person."

"Unfortunately some of us are." Carson glanced over at John. "Do you actually want to *visit* John or look at him from afar?"

"Since I'm here..." Rodney shrugged his shoulders, and took a sip of his coffee, before he did come over to the side of the bed. John looked so wane against the sheets. "How's the political argument over him going?"

"Aye well, I think Colonel O'Neill is winning that little debate." Carson said. "Which I am very grateful for because I don't want to be a bond-slave to the Imperials. I don't think John does either. "

He reached for John's wrist. "He is actually doing better. The antibiotics are finally getting the better of the infection that just ran rife. I don't think the Chair is meant to drain energy, I just think that it is harder for us and, harder when physically he was in a state anyway."

"He seemed to be okay until I unplugged it," Rodney pointed out. Maybe the chair had recharged its internal power system from John. There was always that possibility, with ancient tech. They were never sure how it worked until someone tried it.

"I'm guessing it was feeding energy back into him somehow, or masking how much he had used," Carson said patting John's hand. "I guess this is better than him being delirious."

"No, I'd go for delirious right now," Rodney shrugged. He leaned a little to put the coffee cup down on the little stable beside John's bed, and reached for his fingers. "So no response at all?"

"I had one of the nurses tell me they thought he was looking at them but when they got closer he appeared to be asleep," Carson said. "He's tough. Even Teal'c commented, so he'll wake up." His fingers were a lot warmer now, but not that frightening over the top heat. They felt loose in his hand.

Loose, like dead fingers except that they were still warm. "Because Teal'c has a medical degree. Yes, of course, I hadn't realised that." Rodney shot Carson a little glare, because he *knew* the tones Carson had been using just the day before.

"Rodney..." Carson said and then frowned as the steady beeping of the monitors skipped a little. And then there was a twitch of movement against his own fingers. 

"Hey." Rodney squeezed John's fingers back, hoping it hadn't been a deceptive muscle contraction. "Don't listen to Carson. He likes to talk things up."

He saw John give a slow smile even with his eyes closed. His eyes cracked open just a little as if the light was too bright even as those fingers squeezed back.

"That's a definite response. "Carson said. "John? John can you hear me?"

"Yeah, I can hear you." It was soft and a little slurred but he was actually speaking to them.

"And he talks!" Rodney squeezed John's fingers again, leaning in closer. "Hey. Hi, You've missed a lot. How're you feeling, and Carson probably wants to do the doctor thing."

John grimaced a little and rolled his head to an angle that worked to look up at him. "I feel like crap," he said after a pause.

"Aye well you look a lot like it too," Carson said. "You gave us a bit of a scare. Rodney and I have been very worried."

John smiled a little again and said. "You came back."

"We weren't going to leave you. They just kept us here longer than we wanted to be. In case we'd picked up symbiotes or were clones or something." Rodney couldn't help but scoff a little -- because who could clone *him*? The Goa'uld, now, was a more likely possibility. "It took a while to muster them out of here. Where did the Russians go?"

"I sent them home," John said after a pause. "Idos needed, needed a doctor."

"Probably some less than you did John," Carson replied. "Here, sip this water."

"Isn't it supposed to be ice chips?" Rodney leaned forwards a little, and squeezed John's fingers again. "Hey, if you want coffee and real food I happen to have some..."

"Rodney, he's not ready for that," Carson interrupted. "Don't mind the medical doctors here."

John smiled again. "I could use the coffee and real food... get me up and around."

"You won't be up and around anywhere soon John," Carson said sternly. "You were in a bad way."

"Story of my life." But he was looking at Rodney like he was having the best dream ever and all he was doing was holding his hand.

It was actually pretty stupid, but he'd probably thought he was dead. First blush of... re-reality or something. Being back in the states was good enough to start, not to mention the coming back from the nearly dead thing. "Yeah, seems like. You get to stay in a nice infirmary this time, though. The mice are minuscule here."

"And I got so fond of the one you named Kavanagh," John said still smiling, still looking up at him and he had some more colour in his face now and no one should ever be so good looking after a near death experience.

It just wasn't right. "You haven't met Kavanagh, have you?" Rodney glanced up at Carson, checking that he was okay. Should John be talking that much?

Carson seemed to be watching him, taking note of the monitors at that point.

"Nah, there's only one scientist I want to know better," John said and, yes, his thumb was stroking over his hand. "Two... Yeah, two. You and Carson."

"Huh. Carson, you've got him on the good drugs, right?" Rodney twisted a little, and glanced between them. There was an undercurrent there that he had no idea what to do with.

"From the sounds of it, better than I thought," Carson replied dryly. "Especially if he is talking about me as well. You I know about...me is a new development. I think he's a wee bit delirious."

"You're both mine. " John said sounding a little out of it. "Even if I've been crappy at protecting you guys, you're mine. "

John's. Rodney knew he was staring a little, but that, that was not what he'd expected to hear from John. "Hey, you did a good job. I'd be stuck in house Kolya if it wasn't for you, and that's not the kind of fate anyone wants."

"Couldn't let them hurt you," John replied without any hint of teasing in his voice.

"He's delirious Rodney," Carson said. "He still has a bit of a fever. He might not know what he is saying."

"Maybe I don't," John said looking down at them. "Because, because I wouldn't say this would I?"

"I can't say either way..." Rodney looked at their hands, his and John's, and then back to Carson because it would have been easier if Carson wasn't standing a few feet away observing. "But you’re going to get better and we can really have this talk when you do."

"No, we won't," John said. "I'm not good at... talks. "

"Rodney is good enough at talking for all of us John," Carson murmured. "You should rest some more."

"I'm still in the Chair. It showed me so many things I wanted, maybe it’s showing me this too..."

"You're not in the chair. Trust me, they're still debating over whether to classify you as a Meta, and if that's making its way into your fantasies, you have more problems than Carson and Zelenka and me combined." He sat back, used his free hand to grab his coffee cup.

"That's about my sort of luck," John said closing his eyes, but not letting go of his hand.

"That's more coherence than I thought we'd get out of him," Carson murmured to him.

"We'll still be here when you wake up. Unless it's 3 am. But in the general sense..." And John was probably out, probably unconscious, but Rodney could still feel his fingers.

"I think we can safely say he is out of the woods now," Carson said and looked at him. He looked tired and a little uncertain himself. "You want that conversation with him?"

"I, uh..." Rodney ducked his head down. "I, he, what conversation, exactly?"

"About what he said. When he wakes up?" Carson said in a very soft voice. "It is pretty obvious that he wants you."

"And you!" Rodney had to look at him again, and there was that something again, almost clicking in his head as he looked at Carson. He expected Rodney to rush off with the big hero Imperial. It was just so bizarre. He never expected anyone to get *jealous* over him. Seriously... jealous. Or more than that. Resigned.

"I think I am a tag-along Rodney," Carson said. "I wasn't exactly much use during the whole thing."

"Except for where you kept us *alive*." Rodney squeezed John's hand again, then balanced his coffee between his knees. "You're, you're great. You're probably the first person I've really had care in a really long time, and I'm not going to just... let it go."

"Rodney, if I had been faster getting you away when John told me..." Carson looked at him again. "Then, what happened wouldn't have. What they did to you."

"Getting away where? I was hiding in a *closet*." He just hadn't been able to move, to get out of there because in a fight or flight situation, Rodney fled except when he was completely paralysed with fear. If they wanted to play the blame game, it was his own damn fault.

"I never felt so useless as I did then. If that had been my dad... maybe, could've taken the fighter. I don't know," Carson said. "I keep thinking of how I woke up and you were *gone* and it's really difficult to shake that."

"I thought you were dead. I thought that the two of you had pulled a stupid heroic stunt and that you were *dead*, so I'm not going to encourage you to ever pull a stupid heroic stunt, do you understand?" He shifted John's fingers, and then tucked them carefully back under the bedding.

"I'm not the heroic type," Carson murmured. "John on the other hand...." He exhaled. "You know, it seems unfair that you want me but not him. After everything he has done, I guess I can't believe it."

"He's, I want him, too. I mean, who wouldn't? Except for the part of him that *clearly* has a death wish, he's...." Rodney gestured with his fingers. "And smart, apparently, which is more than I can say for the rest of the ground apes we have in uniform."

"Aye." Carson straightened a little. "You should try it. At least try something with him. John is... Zelenka told me that John is a very lonely person. I think I see what he means if we are the only thing he has, so much so he fights with everything just to keep us for each other. Not for himself."

"Would you....?" Rodney gestured at John, and kept his eyes at Carson. Because the Trine was pretty sacred in their culture, but it was also really easy to fuck up. Two people was hard enough, and Rodney's mind wasn't much for sex just then.

"Yes." Carson looked at him again. "If there was anyone I would want like I do you, it would be him. But not at the expense of you. "

"Not at the expense of," Rodney cut in. "Just, if you and me *and* him, maybe, I mean he spent almost every night he could at your quarters and it was, we all get along, and I can't see the harm in trying..."

"You think it would work? We're Freemen and he's, he's an Imperial." Carson asked now looking at John as if the act of thinking about him was enough to get the ball rolling in his head.

"And we all work together. Let's be honest -- I'm going to work until the day I die. Opportunities like this don't exist anywhere else in the world. He has the gene, they're not going to transfer him elsewhere if he's a gene-holder. They're not going to be putting him in ground wars in enemy empires anymore." Rodney gestured vaguely with one hand, and maybe he was trying to help the ball along.

"Or us. Not if you have the expertise on the, what did you call it? Zero Point thing?" Carson asked. "Or I do on the gene. But he wants to fly. I would feel bad about him being grounded all the time."

"Gene-holder," Rodney reminded. "Lots of cool alien tech. And O'Neill is getting up there. They're going to need someone to pilot the F302s, which he doesn't even know exist yet, right?"

Carson brightened visibly. "Of course... Rodney, you really are a genius!" He leaned over and kissed him as acknowledgement of that fact.

"Of course I am. It shouldn't have ever been in doub--" And then lips against his, warm and solid, and *that* felt good. That felt like Rodney wanted to pull Carson down into his lap, except then Carson would have coffee on his ass.

"Of course you know, this is totally unprofessional," Carson murmured in a quick breath before he kissed him again. "And say no if you are uncomfortable love."

"I'm comfy." Old chair comfy, and he should have expected that if anyone could get horny in an infirmary, it was Carson. Kissing, though, kissing wasn't so out of the norm that Rodney didn't lean into it, tongue sliding against Carson's lips.

He responded and there was the incongruous mental image of the two of them making out over John's unconscious sleeping form and oh god, he hadn't completely been put off sex after all.

Tongue on tongue, and they needed to try that somewhere private where people couldn't walk in, because while he was feeling daring, he wasn't feeling that daring. He'd had enough strange people wander in to pet his ass for one lifetime, so Rodney pulled back, sliding one arm around Carson's shoulders. "Okay, okay, so when do you get off work?"

"Officially I shouldn't be here," Carson replied. "I'm... making a nuisance of myself. So, whenever you do?"

"Also, not really on the clock. Not supposed to be. Apparently they give you a few weeks leave when you're petitioning for recompense, did you know that? I think it's to give you time to think it over, but let's be honest, Sam Carter is *not* wrapping her mind properly around the implications of the ZPM, or how to create a receiver for our own use to say, power... ancient tech." Things.

"John's likely to sleep a while longer. Do you want to..." Carson let his words trail off hopefully.

"Not here. I'd prefer someplace with doors that lock, unless you have a medical fetish I didn't know about?" He picked up his coffee again, and really, what did lunch matter?

"Well, obviously otherwise those years of med training would be purely altruistic," Carson said with a smile. "But we can go to our quarters. Get comfortable."

"I'd prefer that. I'll just..." Do something with the food. Rodney didn't care what. He could eat at Carson's. It wasn't as if they even had apartments anymore -- they had rooms in the mountain, but in time they'd fix that...

"I've got everything back at ours," Carson murmured softly. "Let's go now Rodney."

"Yeah." Yeah, because Carter would be relieved to have him out of the lab and to peek over his notes, and Rodney didn't care. He'd given the SGC more than enough time, and now that he knew John was going to come out the other side of it, he could relax, he could go home with Carson and unwind for an evening.

Carson practically dragged him way, half hurrying to their quarters, still managing to wave, say hello to people in halls on auto-pilot. Sometimes Rodney marvelled at his ability to just... be polite naturally.

It certainly meant they got there quicker than normal.

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

* * *

Last night had been the breakthrough. Carson was dimly awake, and Rodney was in his arms and he had the pleasant aches of post-sex strains. He'd been careful and gentle, and Rodney had been the one pushing the buttons.

It had been a relief as much as an ecstasy to have Rodney pushing and pulling and taking a certain degree of control in their encounter. He'd been twitchy, jumpy, since Russia, and while Carson understood why, knew why, it didn't make it any easier to weather. And of course one really good night didn't mean it was anywhere near to over, but it was certainly a start.

He was trying to understand, to be there for him and he felt helpless. He felt helpless with John, he felt helpless with Rodney and last night he'd finally given some comfort.

Carson stroked gently at Rodney's hair. He was stronger than everyone gave him credit for. He was sure he would've gone to pieces without him.

Without *Rodney*, of all people. He'd been friends with him for years, but there was friends and then there was that, what had started since Russia, and Rodney had shown a whole depth of personality that existed simultaneously with his ego and his asshole-ish streak of stubborn. Rodney worried and Rodney cared about people, and Rodney was amazingly good in the sack.

Perhaps he was worrying unnecessarily about the thing with John but... he just didn't want to lose this. They were beyond saying it was just about sex, they were beyond it being convenience. He wanted to be official. He wanted not to ever let this go and he knew he tended to think about things too deeply, to feel too hastily but he loved him. He really did.

It was a pretty amazing thing actually. And he seemed to want John as well. Carson was pretty sure he felt something. Well, who wouldn't looking at John? But not just that. He had protective feelings that were ridiculous considering John was *their* bodyguard. He felt something in him wanted to fix things for him, to give him feelings which was a little more than he thought was normal for gratitude

It was worth trying.

Carson was sure of that. He was as sure of that as he was sure that he wanted to wake up every morning with Rodney holding onto him like a limpet, loose-limbed and warm.

No matter which way around they were, somehow Rodney always ended up like that; inside the circle of his arms, lying on him, legs tangling with his. Sometimes Carson wondered how he did it because last night, he distinctly remembered Rodney behind him.

If John came into their bed would he lie behind him? Or Rodney? Or in the middle?

That last one could be quite interesting, waking up with John in front of him, that tight ass pressed against Carson's dick, and perhaps Rodney and John sleepily kissing, because there was little doubt in Carson's mind that Rodney would limpet himself onto one of them either way. Or in the middle of it...

Rodney tilted his head down slightly, and pressed a kiss against Carson's collar bone.

"Awake love?" he said softly and let his hand drift over Rodney's back in soothing sweeps. "Thought you were sleeping in."

"I'm sleepin' in." Rodney pressed another kiss against Carson's collar bone, his lips loose and warm, lazy. Carson liked that, as much as he liked the way that Rodney had pinned him down to the mattress and fucked him until he could hardly breathe.

"I think I will too then," Carson replied and teased at Rodney’s hair. "Thank you for last night. It wasn't too much was it?"

"Fantastic." Rodney drawled it against his chest, and pressed another kiss before he sighed and shifted minutely closer. "I don't get why... people do things like that. Never feels half as good as really, as deciding on it."

"Do what Rodney?" Carson asked still stroking him gently. "What they did to you?"

He *knew*, but he'd never had Rodney say it aloud, and that was important on some level, Carson knew. Maybe getting him to say it would be a step towards getting Rodney to voluntarily go see a counsellor on base. Carson couldn't say that he agreed with everything Doctor Heightmeyer advised, but she was effective.

"You know." Rodney's fingertips fluttered against his side for a moment. 

"Say it Rodney," Carson encouraged very softly. "Say it so we can both understand it."

The fingers went still, and Rodney tilted his head slight, the stubble of his cheek pressing against Carson's chest-hair. "Tied me down and raped me. And then *left* me like that so that anyone who wanted to come in and fuck around with me could. And did. It..."

"It was about humiliation and control Rodney," Carson murmured. "And I'm sure they expected you to crumble. But you didn't. You got angry instead. I'm sure I wouldn't've been as strong." He carried on stroking him softly, pleased that Rodney had admitted what had happened aloud.

"Of course I got angry. I thought you and John were dead, and that it was the stupidest thing he could have done because even, just politically, you were both gene-holders, so his logic was obviously broken and skewed, and..." Rodney's fingers squeezed, slipped around to clutch at Carson tighter. "And then you guys showed up. I didn't have time to not be angry."

"John wouldn't wait and I..." Carson still felt the grip of guilt. "Truthfully, I should've stopped him. I knew that what I did might end with him like this although I did not know about the ancient devices. But I couldn’t stop him and I went further and...actively gave him things I knew would harm him. But I did that because I was too much of a coward to try and rescue you myself."

"Hey." Rodney lifted his head, and he left a warm spot against Carson's chest. "You're not an imperial. You're a geneticist."

"I'm also a doctor, and I ignored my oaths for personal gain," Carson said. He smiled a little. "And I can't even feel a little sorry about that."

"If you'd stuck by them, what would have happened?" Rodney peered at him, and he was definitely still more on the sleep side of things than the awake side still.

"We would've lost you," Carson replied and his grip tightened just a little. "I don't think I could bear that, I really don't."

"That's good, because I really don't want to contemplate a lifetime in Russia. In house Kolya. I mean, we're freemen, and even when I *was* a slave, life was never like that..." Rodney laid his head back down against Carson's chest. "And John would be doing what right now if you hadn't done what you'd done?"

"I don't know. They most likely would've taken him as well for the gene," Carson replied. "Or Heir Idos would've had him. Zelenka said that was the gossip around the station, that he pleased him so well he was... fond of him."

"That was the gossip," Rodney agreed quietly. "Can’t blame him. Even dehydrated, he was a good looking guy."

"Aye..." Carson sighed a little. "And so is John of course. When he's not black and blue from bruises. Sometimes I wonder exactly what the extra training he had did to him."

"Broke him down in places." Rodney shrugged his shoulders a little, and leaned in to brush a kiss against Carson's mouth. "I don't know. He's a good guy, though."

"Mmm, yes." Carson kissed him back slowly and carefully. "Did you mean what you said about us and a Trine? With John?"

"Yeah. It's..." Rodney laid his head back down on the pillow for possibly the first time since they'd come in the day before. "It seems doable. If he wants to. And why not?"

"I think he would definitely want to if we can persuade him." Carson said. "You could seduce him. That worked on me."

"I seduced you? I thought we were drunk?" Rodney laughed a little. "Actually, I haven't had the chance to seduce you, I don't think..."

"Are you sure?" Carson smiled at him. "Personally, I found you irresistible." He kissed him again.

"I can do it up big," Rodney promised. "Dinner, candlelight, music..." The whole clichéd nine yards, which made Carson want to laugh a little.

“I would settle for a pizza, a film and you," Carson replied. "But how do we seduce John?" Should we take him to Vegas like you promised?"

"We could always ask him what he prefers? But I'm thinking 'sex in the base' isn't a preference. The bed's pretty small for two of us..."

"I think John likes pretty much anything," Carson said. "Frankly I was feeling a little inadequate next to his experience, or what I heard and saw of it."

"It's not a competition." Rodney stretched, a lazy shift of his legs. "Right. I need to get up and pee. What should we do for breakfast?"

"We should have breakfast here. In bed. I think we have a toaster and those strange things with no nutritional value you like so much," Carson offered. "You said you craved them in Siberia."

"I craved a lot of things in Siberia. But pop-tarts and power bars hold a special place in my heart." The stretch turned into a lazy shifting, and Rodney swung his legs over the edge of the bed. "So, are we agreed that a hotel is a must?"

"Definitely. Or one of these Personal places he was talking about. Zelenka could go get laid as well. I think we owe him that when they've done holding him secure for the 28 days." Carson answered and smiled remembering that conversation, all of them sprawled together."

Rodney laughed a little as he got out of bed. "Vegas. We'll save Vegas for that, then. For after the 28 days and when John can get his leave. Unless you want to delay the whole thing that long..."

"I don't want John to feel neglected," Carson said. "I'll make the poptarts. My skills are at about that level."

"Because the sex was that good? Because usually you're a decent cook." Rodney was grinning as he padded into the bathroom, and it was good to see him grinning and getting out of bed in quite that light of a mood.

He'd been so worried that they had broken him, made him something less than he had been and that would've been a crime. A real crime.

And the poptarts were calling his name.

* * *

Carson hadn't been kidding when he'd said that he was planning to keep John there for a few days. He was around every so often to talk with John, and Rodney visited, but lying in a hospital bed drugged up to the eyeballs was pretty tedious stuff for someone like John.

He was bored. He'd even reached the stage where he welcomed the debriefing sessions with O'Neill. Oh and Sam Carter, and Dr Jackson... He was starting to think the guy had some sort of compulsion to suck any hint of ancient knowledge from his brain. He looked forward to seeing Rodney and Carson and most of all he counted down the hours until he was allowed out.

And he did count them down. There wasn't much else to do, just wait and expect the same faces over and over again, the debriefings and the debriefings, and Doctor Jackson, and no Rodney and Carson, hide or hair of them for hours. It was starting to worry him, because maybe they'd run off, or maybe something had happened to them, or maybe Rodney had had an allergic reaction somewhere and...

There they were. Thank god. It made him nervous now, them being out of his sight and if Sam hadn't've confiscated his life-signs detector he would've been using that all the time.

"Well Major Sheppard, apparently today's the day," Carson said as the pair of them approached him. "A clean bill of health."

"We're here to help reverse that," Rodney grinned. "How do you feel about a really unhealthy dinner somewhere nice?"

"I could really go for a really unhealthy dinner," John agreed. "Somewhere nice is optional. I've pretty much only got this stuff I'm wearing." Black t-shirt, black jeans. It was either that or Imperial Uniform.

"It's, okay, it's not tux and tie, it's more, uh, nice large chain place," Rodney admitted, gesturing with one hand. "And, steak. You are up for steak and cake, right? And a little booze, maybe, if you're up to it."

"Steak and cake sounds fantastic," John replied. "I've been ready to get out of this place for ages.”

He could move and it didn't hurt too much, he was a little stiff from too much lying around, not enough working out and he just hoped they weren't going to reassign him. 

He was a gene-holder now, and that implied that he was some sort of special person to be considered differently than other Imperials who would have served out their guard-duty work until, well, his expected retirement. 

It didn't look like that was coming around anytime soon. Rodney gave Carson a thumbs up. "Great -- I'll drive."

He was willing to follow and allow that if only because he didn't have a car and he probably wasn’t meant to drive.

"He can only have a few drinks though. I don't want him straining his liver or kidneys," Carson said. "It's going to take a while to get stamina back."

"Yeah, I gathered that," John said.

He knew how tired he could get after hours and hours of talking, where before that had been nothing. And it didn't seem reasonable that he was still sort of that easily tired, because the events that had put him there in the first place seemed so far removed. 

"Right." Rodney agreed to that in a completely serious tone of voice. "You might want to save some energy, then. Doze in the car, if you want."

"Hey, I'm not that bad...am I?" John looked at the others.

Carson raised his eyebrows back at him. "Well, either that or Rodney and I are really boring conversationalists."

"I could talk about my day in the lab," Rodney volunteered as they started to walk. John couldn't help but notice that it was an easy pace, like they were lingering for his sake. "I was showing Radek our file system. There's a folder *specifically* for the different theories for wormhole physics, and it's broken down into each field, models, proofs and theorems, and Sam removed my 'right and wrong' notations while we were in Russia."

"As if you haven't suffered enough," John murmured and he liked the fact that Rodney seemed happy. Even despite his failure to protect him.

That had to be Carson's influence. It was funny, but he would never have thought the doctor would've been that resilient. Or Rodney. But they were the ones getting on with things while he was being dragged off to therapy and getting strange sidelong looks from the other Imperials when Colonel O'Neill came and pinned him with his hundred-star and an additional dozen or more besides. 

He didn't know what to do with that star, and it didn't mean nearly enough. Didn’t mean half of what other imperials thought it would mean, and John didn't feel that proud, because in the end Rodney had given a forfeit and he'd been captured by Kolya and...

And even if Rodney was acting all right, it still bothered John. "Hey, everyone was just starting to get used to the idea that white holes are figments of their imaginations. Now I have to start over again."

"That's gotta be a bitch," John said even as they got in an elevator that would take them up a few levels.

"You have no idea," Carson replied sounding cheery. "And all of a sudden I'm not second string and a curious oddity with my research anymore. It's rather ironic really. They just thought it was useful...now it's been upgraded to vital."

"Hell of a way to get a promotion," Rodney muttered. "But it's good. It's nice to have our work recognised. And taken seriously."

"Finally," Carson said as the doors open on an upper level. "Ah, here we are."

They walked out of the building, showing ID and John breathed in the fresh air.

"Hey outside air that doesn't freeze in your lungs."

"And no snow." Rodney seemed to pause for a moment, and added, "Not yet. It does snow here, of course, and you have to dodge all sorts of strange people in town, but I suppose they think we're just as strange as they are. At least in Nevada, everyone knows strange is Vegas. It makes for a good baseline."

"Yeah, they have some pretty amazing things in Vegas," John said. "Haven't been there for years, but, yeah. Definitely weird. They have cuffless clubs, stuff like that."

Carson looked surprised. "Really? That sounds a little odd."

"And the highest proportion of Pleasure Slaves and Personals in a population." John added as they walked over to a car.

Rodney drove not quite the car John expected. He knew that Rodney *drove*, but he hadn't paid too much attention, and he'd assumed Rodney was a... buick kind of guy. Staid, car like a boat. It was a pretty nice looking two-door, John realised as they got closer to it.

And it was a Volvo. Now, *that* figured. "How do you *know* that?"

"You really think I wouldn't know?" He smirked little. "Fine, we had our additional training from Vegas trained Personal's. I remember facts and figures."

"There we go. I guessed you weren't in Vegas counting collars." Rodney grinned as he dug into his pocket for his keys. "Uh... who wants shotgun?"

"John will," Carson volunteered him the spot. "I can take the back."

"Thank you Carson,” John said as Rodney opened up and he got in, his back aching a little.

It was nice to not have to crunch his back up into a ball to get into his seat. The seats had a lot of headroom, leg room. Rodney pushed his own seat forwards to get Carson get into the back. "So what have you missed the most?"

"Well, I came in direct from Afghanistan," John replied as Carson got in and he found himself watching his ass, and Rodney's and he thought he really had to see about getting laid or something. They didn't allow sex in the Infirmary which he thought was really inconsiderate.

Hell, they were wounded soldiers. They should have been bringing personals in for their *benefit*, since they'd been hurt fighting space aliens and enemies and things. Maybe it was the space alien thing that made them think twice about it. "Right. Right, I forgot that. Before that, then?"

"Spent some time in Australasian Free States and the Eastern Empires. They had me over the Arctic before that... the Meta Rogue conflicts before they paid out for some of the stronger Meta's from the Great Houses to put an end to it. " John sat down and smiled. "Been pretty much most places except home. "

By rights he hadn't really stayed anywhere long enough to call it that. He'd done a few stateside tours, but even then his profile had him off doing things like recon missions.

Rodney pushed his seat back, and slid into the driver's seat with ease, pulling the seatbelt on right away. Seatbelt, right. It seemed like the kind of car that would beep at him if he didn't. "Bizarrely, now that you're in the SG, you're uh, going to find yourself making a home. I think."

"Aye, they won't let you stray too far now," Carson added as John settled in the front seat. "Not as a gene holder. Much too valuable."

"Well, that'll be new," John replied. "You reckon I'll rate an apartment? Rather than quarters at the base?"

"Yeah. Oh yeah. O'Neill has a house. He's disgustingly proud of it." Rodney slid the key into the ignition, and glanced over at John. "Ready?"

Ready for what? Food? "Yeah sure, take me away from all this," he drawled and Carson snorted a little behind him. The pair of them seemed a bit keyed up for some reason.

It was a little strange. Not *bad* strange, but strange. Rodney nodded a little, and started up the engine, quickly backing out of his parking space. "Oh, man I've missed driving. Powerful engine, lots of open road..."

"You sure you're not a thwarted Imperial?" John asked leaning back into the seat. "That's the sort of thing I say when I get wings under me."

Not that *that* was likely ever again, and he couldn't help it, it did send him into a little downwards turn of mood.

"No, no, I *love* a good car," Rodney grinned. Maybe he was driving a Volvo, but it seemed to have some decent power to it. "Airplanes, less so. You'd have a lot less faith in them if you understood the physics behind it, which I tried to explain to Carson once, but he stopped me..."

"Having Rodney explain things is enough to make sure I never go anywhere ever again," Carson added from behind them. 

"I do understand the physics behind it," John said casually. "That's what makes it great... every time you go up and come down is your own personal miracle."

"The Conada effect and good old newtonian physics." Rodney kept his eyes on the road while he drove, and that was a comfort. He didn't look at John, didn't look at Carson, just eyes on the road as they stopped at the checkpoint to leave the mountain.

John smiled a little and leaned back. He wasn't going to even try teasing Rodney about the physics of flight. He was pretty sure this was some sort of thank you meal, but he was also a little worried that it was a goodbye meal. Maybe Rodney had been reassigned to Area 51. Maybe Carson's new importance meant he was being shipped out. It might explain a lot of thing

"Rodney, if you explain how that effect makes it theoretically possible for passenger jets to fly upside down, I may have to annoyingly put my knees in your back," Carson warned. 

"Look, Bernoulli's law or whatever they're calling it today fails to explain why planes with flat wings fly. That's all I'm saying. Anyway, you'll hit the lumbar support bar if you get any bright ideas back there." Rodney waved to the man at the gate, who seemed to take a quick headcount of them. There were probably at least 4 cameras on the car, too.

"Maybe it comes down to the pilot praying hard enough," John said grinning a little to himself.

"Oh god, I am never flying again. Ever," Carson groaned. "You’ve just ruined any faith I had in planes at all."

"Maybe I'll take you up in one of the helicopters some day.” John said as they sped away from the mountain.

"Oh, hey, don't get me started on the safety of wormholes." Rodney glanced up in the rear-view mirror, just for a second, before his eyes were back on the road. He was definitely teasing Carson, wound up or not.

"It's bloody unnatural," Carson grumbled behind them both and...just for a moment, John was half convinced that there were fingers just very, very lightly stroking his hair.

He didn't even know whether to look around so he changed the subject. "How much longer does Zelenka have to stay in the lock down? I've lost track of days."

"Uh, we're at... twenty two left, I think. He's starting to get comfortable, and he's been debriefed forty ways to Christmas. They're sure he's not a spy, and his work speaks for itself. He was *close* to being a freeman, apparently, before he was transferred to Kolya house some ten odd years ago. He stopped publishing for about a year, and then resurfaced."

"They had to be sure he wouldn't run," John said shaking his head a little. "He had a wife. He told me she died in a House War. I guess that was before Kolya."

"House war that landed him in Kolya house. I'd probably stop publishing for a year, too." Rodney shrugged his shoulders, while he pulled onto the highway. "They call it 'transferring' which is the daftest thing I've ever heard."

"Means being a War-slave just as much as being one for real," John said closing his eyes a moment.

"I tell you, it scared the willies out of me, the thought of being made a bond-slave again. That sort of thing is not meant to happen to Freemen," Carson said. "Unless through criminal charges but we didn't do anything wrong."

"War-slaves are different," John replied staring out of the window. "You get caught, you don't even get access to basic bond rights for the duration. The only plus side is that living war-slaves are worth more than dead ones."

"I had an uncle go that way. Dropped off the map in the eastern empire when his whole unit went missing. We do things a little differently up in Canada -- you see, if you're fighter quality with high moral scores, they take you in as an Imperial. He... unfortunately had really bad luck. First war Canada'd been in, in *years* of course cropped up while he was serving. My mother always said that his mere *presence* in the Imperial forces was what caused the war, but we know it was their alliance with the Australasian Free States."

"The Eastern Empire have... different ideas about everything," John said diplomatically. That had been a tour with some highs and lows in it. "If you thought Russia was bad for people taking offence? They were much worse, and if they lost, they would vow a bloody revenge through the generations. It was pretty amazing that they managed to run a war there, without it degenerating into infighting as everyone had a feud with everyone else. But they started targeting the Metas and I think that's when the Imperials started pushing the stakes up some."

John shrugged again. "I crashed there as well. Actually, I've crashed most places one way or another." He smiled a little at that.

"That's not what Carson wants to hear." Rodney smirked a little when he said it. "But look on the bright side -- you're still here, in one piece. And they're going to let you have at some of the best planes in the world pretty soon."

John looked at him a moment. "I haven't heard anything about planes?" he said unable to contain his interest.

"Aye, well the SGC tends to do these prototype things, and a lot of the time they have to wait for Colonel O'Neill. I'm pretty sure you've got as much if not more experience in flying, or crashing as he has."

"Which is pretty extensive, I've been told. Anyway, the planes... We have a space-worthy jet fighter that I've serviced the computer systems on, and while I'd rather stay on the ground, thanks, I've seen more than one of our pilots nearly wet themselves getting near them, so I'll have to guess you'll at least be a *little* interested in them." Rodney glanced over at John, or maybe the side view mirror, and switched lanes. 

"If it flies I'm interested," John said immediately. "Only...they’re not likely to reward me for failing in my assigned duty."

Carson tutted with exasperation. "John, how on earth can you see what you did as a failure?"

"I would've thought that was obvious," he replied and he did not want to get into this.

"Not obvious," Rodney volunteered. "You saved our *lives*. We're still alive because of you. If you hadn't pushed yourself past the limits of human endurance, I'd probably be learning Russian by now."

"You suck at Russian," John smiled a little. "You were pretty bad at Czech."

"Worse at Scottish," Carson pointed out.

"Scottish isn't a *language*." Rodney laid his head back against his headrest. "It's a strange strange dialect. You and the Irish and the Welsh. It's really for the attention and to prove to the world that they hate England."

"Aye, it’s in our blood," Carson said. "The Clans verses the Houses of England. Now my mother could spin a yarn of those times, giving us tales of great heroes, Fighters and warriors..."

John drifted a little, listening to the pleasant lilt of Carson's hypnotic brogue as he told them about the once great Clan his family had come from and then went on to mention a Clan called McKay. It made him smile because Rodney didn’t seem interested in a romantic history, not matter how hard Carson pushed the idea.

Rodney kept interrupting him, too, arguing little points. Just here and there, smart-assed comments that seemed meant to draw John in, but he was really content to just listen to them bicker. The radio was on low, an indistinct level of noise on par with the sound of tires on road.

There was a temptation to drift off to the vibration of movement, and the comforting sounds of someone just being there. But that would be rude. By the time they were anywhere near their destination, Carson and Rodney had moved onto why was it that Rodney didn't have the ancient gene and they did.

Conversations with Rodney often came back to that point after a while. The genius lay in how it managed to get there.

"I still don't understand it. If the ancients were superior then surely intelligence would be a factor," Rodney was saying.

"That's as may be Rodney, and yes that is probably the truth, but there is such a thing as parallel evolution," Carson replied.

"Still. It makes me wonder if it was an artificial addition or something." Rodney shrugged his shoulders a little. The motion brought John's eyes towards the windows more. They were downtown. And after dinner, they'd have to drive all the way back to the Mountain, because he certainly didn't have anywhere to go.

"No, it's definitely a natural phenomenon," Carson said and there was a heavy pause before he said. "However, I am a geneticist and there is a possibility it might not stay that way."

"Well, if it wasn't natural in the first place there's no reason why someone as intelligent as you, in that particular field couldn't recreate it. Look at all of the things in other fields we've been able to reverse engineer..."

"Aye, well when I managed to activate the ancient gene in a mouse, I'll let you know Rodney and you can be my first human test subject," Carson said.

"Only if it's not dangerous," John said automatically, breaking his drifting silence.

"Ah, he speaks!" Rodney grinned, and shot him a quick glance. "Glad you're awake. We're just about to park..."

"I wasn't asleep," John protested. "Just...s ort of zoning a little." It sounded lame but that was the truth of it.

"Well, you wait until you have some proper food inside you," Carson replied. "Rodney tells me this is a good place."

"As a man who has no shame about enjoying his food, I can attest that this is a good place. You have to trust me that any restaurant where they offer steak that's been wrapped in *bacon*..." And John had seen Rodney eat food with a relish that most people wouldn't even call food. So it wasn't *that* reassuring. "Plus, you're not going to find a lemon in the whole place."

"You inspect the kitchens yourself?" John replied with a faint smile. "Or you want me to go and declare them safe for old times sake?"

"Actually, I *have*, and the way my luck's been, it might be good to check again, actually." He saw Rodney antsily shift his hands on the steering wheel before he started to parallel park.

"Oh no need to check," Carson said airily and John glanced in the mirror and met his eye and smiled.

"Because you're carrying an epipen right?" John said.

"Never leave home without it," Carson said. "I have these terrible recurring dreams where Rodney accidentally impales himself on a lemon."

"I really hope you're joking." Rodney apparently got the tires settled to his satisfaction, and turned off the engine. "Okay. I even made a reservation, so we should be seated right away."

"Great, I'm starving," John replied even as he got out. "Food up in Cheyenne was only marginally better than the Siberia excuse for swill."

"They murdered a good steak there," Carson said mournfully. "I think that's what I want. A nice big steak and the works. That's one thing the American empire can be proud of." That sounded like a good idea. A very good idea

"My treat." Rodney offered that in an off the cuff way as he got out of his seat and pushed it forwards so Carson could get out. "Steak with *bacon*. And cheese. You -- I'm telling you, we might need wheelbarrows."

John smiled. "If you're sure, I'm not going to say no." But it did make him worry this was a goodbye. There had been talk of Area 51 and Rodney that Major Lorne had told him when he dropped in, as if he would be happy with that. Happy to lose someone he'd been driven to the limits of his endurance to protect and then beyond because he *needed* to protect him.

"I'm sure. I think we all deserve a proper welcome back home, and hey, I have the credits for it." Rodney leaned on the door while Carson fumbled out of the back seat.

"You , Rodney are richer than the Emperor," Carson maintained as he straightened up. "And will be richer still when our claim comes through."

"Oh you guys put in for compensation?" John asked as he followed Rodney into the restaurant.

"Carson did. For me. And I hope for himself." Rodney pocketed his keys after locking up, and then shoved his hands into his pockets. "I've been a little... out of it. And I hate forms in triplicate, but we were spitefully assigned to a bad situation that was poorly researched and, uh. Well, you were there. You know. It's just a shame you can't file."

The thought hadn't even occurred to him. "Why would I?" he asked mildly.

"Because they sent you alone into a hostile situation?" Carson suggested. "It was little better than systematic torture."

"It was hell. I'm giving some to Radek as something to get him started over here, and if we can coordinate leave time, we're going to Vegas. No arguing it. We're all smart enough to rob them blind, anyway." Math for evil, and Rodney was grinning when he said it.

That did make John smile. "Hell, yeah. Sounds like a great idea. Is that how you bought out?"

"Personally mine was hard work and brilliance," Carson said and grinned a little.

"Oh, sure, *imply* that I bought out by cheating." Rodney stuck his tongue out at Carson as he pushed the door open and then, after almost a start of motion, held it for John. Huh. That was nice of him. "I tried poker, actually. Complete failure, and I probably added five years to my time that way if I hadn't worked out the roulette wheel."

"You can't work out the roulette wheel," John protested, and even as he entered he could *smell* the steaks sizzling and god, he was starving for it.

It was maybe a little overdone in there -- the theme was clearly one of manliness. John had been in gay bars that had had less testosterone on the walls, and the people inside weren't macho. It was pretty mixed, men and women, and families. Rodney stepped up towards the host, and gave his reservation name. 

"No, you actually can. One wheel at a time, he says. He part he won't admit is that he had to watch it for a week to work out the friction, and they mistook him for a homeless man."

John chuckled a little. "Yeah, I can see that somehow," he commented even as they were taken immediately to a table. 

"His winnings were the stuff of legend," Carson replied.

"And no-one banned me, because I *am* so bad at poker. It's a shame, too. It *should* be easy, but..." Rodney shrugged widely as he flopped into the booth and scooted over. A four seater for three people, well, John knew who was going to be sitting by himself. He slid in on one side, and was fully expecting Carson to bracket Rodney opposite him, and was surprised when he actually slid in next to him.

He looked at him about to ask something and then thought better of it.

"Well, hopefully not a week spent watching tables when we go," Carson said. "We have better things to do."

"Shows, and museums and..." Rodney was picking up a menu, and interrupted his sentence with a 'oo' noise before he flipped it over to show John. "This, this is fantastic."

John had to admit it looked more than fantastic. "You've been here before -- what's good? Aside from everything?"

"Or should we just order the entire menu," Carson added. "It looks like that is what you are thinking."

"*Bacon* on steak. *Imported* Bacon, I'll add," Rodney smirked, and he sat back. "So, uh, I'm going to pick up some brochures about Vegas and maybe you can help figure out a rough plan, John?"

"If you really want me to go with you, I could charter a helicopter and scare the hell out of you both in the Grand Canyon," John suggested with a smirk.

"See? That sounds like a plan," Rodney agreed in a little too eager tone, nodding at John. "A crazy plan, but a plan."

"Couldn't we just gamble some, lose money and see the sights?" Carson asked hopefully.

"That is seeing the sights," John pointed out. They were definitely acting weird around him. Maybe this meal thing was a bad idea.

"What, you don't want to be in a helicopter?" Rodney sat back, grinning loosely.

"Sirs, are you ready to order yet?"

"Aye, I think I am..." Carson replied. "Let’s have one of your steaks with the works. Whatever is just below the bacon wrapping experience." He looked at Rodney and then patted John's arm. "What do you want John?"

"Uh, same as you," he said a little flustered by the contact. What was going on? Carson seemed to be making a pass at him in front of Rodney.

The waiter turned to Rodney, and John was *sure* he wasn’t imagining the way the man *flinched* like he recognised Rodney. "And I'll have the one with the bacon. And coke."

It distracted him a little even as he said, "Hey, yeah... a beer as well please," and Carson chimed in with "Make that two."

He had no real idea what was going on and maybe he was imagining it but he kept his mouth shut as the waiter left.

"I figured I'd be a good designated driver," Rodney shrugged. "Plus, I've had the oddest craving for soda since we got back from that hellhole."

"I reckon that their coffee wasn't coffee at all and you've got low caffeine levels in your blood supply," Carson said.

"High blood levels in his caffeine supply," John suggested drawling slightly really watching them for a moment. Rodney seemed edgy, a little more hyped than usual. Flicking glances at him all the time and then at Carson. Carson was way inside his personal space and... he wasn't protesting.

He should have been, but he wasn't going to. There was no denying that things were *off*, though. Rodney was usually calmer than that even if he was excited, and Carson was in people's personal space, sure, but he wasn't *in* them like that. Not in that way. But now he was.

It felt a lot like a conspiracy, John decided.

"Har har. Next you'll be telling him about the time I tried to give it up."

"Oh god, it was horrifying," Carson leaned in to confide in him. "If you think he's bad in the mornings now, you ought to try him without coffee."

Ought to *try* him? Was he imagining this?

"Really?"

"He got the shakes. Genuine caffeine withdrawal shakes. But not just a little, but as if he was coming off of a class A substance." Caron looked over at Rodney. "That amount is not good for you."

“I've been functioning on it for years now. It's just not worth the withdrawal -- what if I tried to quit and something, uh, came up at work." John could almost hear Rodney mentally saying 'the space aliens attacked' while he leaned his elbows on the table.

"It's bad enough you come asking me for stimulants so you can save the day again," Carson replied. "And now I have two of you trying the same thing."

"Hey, it was pretty necessary," John felt he should defend himself. "I mean... at the time."

"It was. It's just against Carson's oath." Rodney shifted his shoulders, eyes on John's face. "It's not like either of us are addicted. It's a situational thing."

"Yes well I don't intend to make a habit of it," Carson complained as their drinks came over, the glint of gems on the waitresses cuffs showing her for a student of some kind trying to minimise her bond debt with some lower level labour.

John glanced at her out of habit more than anything. “I promise not to ask you for more. I guess it ended up seeming like the only reason I talked to you Carson."

"It was my fault you were getting beaten up in the first place," Rodney admitted, smiling briefly, flatly, at the girl, before he clutched his coke tightly in one hand and leaned down to slurp off the straw.

"Nah, it was those crazy Russian guys. They saw a weakness and went for it," John said. "That last fight was a complete set up. They must've worked it how they wanted."

"I think he might be right. They went out of their way to do that at least," Carson said thoughtfully, sipping his beer. John tasted his own and lost himself for a moment in the savouring of its taste and the texture of fizzing in his mouth.

It was nice. It was nice to just sit there and drink and not have to calculate what might happen next. Except for the part where he *was* calculating and wondering and trying to work out what step came next because Rodney and Carson were acting strange.

Their behaviour only made sense in a way that didn't make sense. They seemed to be throwing themselves at him and it was just weird and...

He couldn't just sit here all night not knowing. "You guys are kinda keyed up tonight," he said. "Something going on?"

"Uh..." The uh gave it away. Rodney shifted his soda, and gave a shrug of his shoulders. "We, uh, Carson and I, uh..."

"You see John we uh..." Carson was looking over at him, then Rodney and the two of them looked as spooked as if he had interrupted them robbing an Imperial bank. 

"So something *is* going on?" John asked. "You want to go to Vegas to get married or something?"

"Married?" Rodney's eyes went wide enough that John could see the white. "No, no, I mean, not that I'm adverse to Marriage, but I, uh. We, well, I reserved a hotel room and it's actually really nice and uh, would you like to see it?"

"Rodney..." Carson sighed with exasperation. "Aside from the fact that Rodney sounded like he was back in his teens, what we are trying to say is that..."

"You've reserved a really nice hotel room?" John half stated, half asked.

"Exactly." Carson cleared his throat. "And it comes equipped with condoms."

"And lube. Well, we’re bringing it, but it amounts to the same. If you're interested." Rodney took another nervous taste of his soda, still looking between John and Carson.

He nearly spat out his mouth full of beer. "Wait, wait you guys are *propositioning* me?" John asked incredulously. "Why? I mean, do you know something I don’t? You're transferring out and I get a fuck as a farewell present?"

A very fine present but he'd rather do without that if they would just stay. And there was something very unsettling about that thought. "No, no, I think you have the wrong idea John," Carson said raising a hand placatingly.

"I'm not a cut and run guy." And Rodney finally sounded like he was getting his head around his own words. "That would be the *last* thing either of us would do. Because for a start, that's an awful lot of drama in a world full of cell phones, isn't it? No, no, it's, you're..."

"You're ours," Carson said in a voice that was low and soft and damn if it didn't hit him in his weakest spot.

"Yours? What, for the night?" He managed to say.

"And longer." Rodney set the glass down, and John felt a leg bump lightly against his. "If you're interested. You're great, funny, interesting, *smart*...."

"I'd get that in writing if I were you John, Rodney doesn't say that about just anyone," Carson encouraged.

John was still stuck on the 'hey lets have sex and try being together thing'. "You want me. Both of you want me? Not just overnight? But... you guys are freemen, I'm an Imperial. You know we have really different backgrounds."

“So? Carson and I have different backgrounds, too. You're part of the SGC now, John. It's not the same as being either an Imperial or a freeman or a slave. Everyone is on a much more even keel inside of the base." Some motion caught Rodney’s eyes, off to the side, and he looked off towards it. Just someone walking past.

"Well, I'd be stupid to say no," John said even as he turned over the idea. A Trine relationship - he'd never thought of that. "I just can't work out why though."

"Spare me from modest overly heroic Imperials," Carson said sounding a little fondly exasperated. "Look, John, you spent your time sacrificing yourself for us both. You did what I demanded from you though it was unfair and dangerous. You.... I know you kept hurting yourself because you didn't want to see me hurt more and, just, those sorts of things get you noticed, but we know more about you as a person as well."

"I wish we'd learned more about you before, well, before. Sooner." Rodney gestured vaguely while he said it. "But you're really, you're really..." Rodney glanced at Carson. "You. And that sounds stupid, I know, so please shut me up."

"I'm too stunned at your eloquence Rodney," Carson said dryly. "John, we both care about you a lot. We feel we've gotten to know you better than most people and frankly, you are a very fine looking man, you seem to like Rodney more than a little and--"

"I get these focused intense feelings for people I work with, " John said awkwardly. "I think I'm trying to say I think you guys are great and I, well, even the *chance* sees me right there, but I want you to be sure of things. I'm not great catch."

"You are. How are you defining great catch? I can't even string two sentences together right now." Rodney waggled his eyebrows at John, and there was the gentle bump of leg on leg again.

"Yeah, I noticed that," John said with a half-smile. "I don't think I've ever seen you at a loss for words."

"I have," Carson said. "Usually when he's uh, got his mouth full."

"I give a really spectacular blowjob," Rodney declared without a hint of shame to his voice. John guessed he was really going to choke to death one of those times, and it was just as well that Carson was a doctor.

"Jesus, Rodney... could you keep it down a little?" John asked plaintively.

"Yes, Rodney, keep it down or everyone will want one," Carson added with a sly grin.

Rodney laughed a little. "When I win my Nobel, no-one is going to say 'Hey, I remember that guy. He was talking about blowjobs really loudly in a steakhouse ten years ago!'." 

"They might if you were *giving* them though," Carson said with a smirk. "I was sucked off by a Nobel prize-winner -If I ever get poor and destitute I shall sell my story to the papers."

John shook his head unable to believe this was really happening. "So...we're really going to do this?"

"I hope so. There's no reason to say no, is there?" And while an absence of bad reasons was usually a reason in and of itself to say no, John had a horde of vague reasons why he should say yes.

"I wasn't intending on it," John replied and suddenly he was allowing himself to look at them in a completely different light. Not just as his Freemen job but as more. He didn't know why he found Rodney attractive, but he did. The way he spoke, the brilliance, the ... the everything. And Carson, Carson he more than just liked. And truth be told part of it was what he could see in them together. He was like a kid pressing against the window of a sweetshop, wanting in on the action.

They were easy, and Rodney was shameless and tongue-tied at the same time, while Carson was pleased with himself and welcoming. It didn't seem too romantic, no, but John didn’t care much about that. He wanted everything that under laid it all. "Good. Great. So, uh..." Rodney glanced over his shoulder. "Aha, food's coming."

"Well that's got our priorities right," John replied and settled back as his steak was put in front of him and he was practically salivating at the thought of it. And the thought of Carson and Rodney. He bet Rodney topped. Well, most of the time. Perhaps Carson did. No, wait...

"Mm." Carson commented. "Best chips ever."

"Chips?" John asked frowning.

"Aye, chips. Okay, *fries*. Best fries ever."

"Fries. French fries, even though they have nothing to do with the French Empire." Rodney reached for a fry first, blowing on the end of it. "God, I've missed food. This is going to taste like a salty, seasoned piece of heaven."

They were right, John had to admit that. He had a suspicion that the only worthwhile thing the Russian Empire knew what to do with a potato was to make it into vodka.

It tasted fantastic, the steak tasted fantastic. The onion rings, everything, each taste something wonderful. He had lost a lot of weight that he hadn't had on him to lose, and he could stand a few meals like that.

"I've never known so much... stuff on one plate," Carson said looking at it

"Best place to have all this much stuff," Rodney declared, waving a fork around in the air. "Beer, steak, and save room for cake. But don't eat so much that you can't, uh."

"Perform?" John asked as he ate. "Wouldn't want to let you guys down."

"That would be a shame," Carson admitted.

"No, a shame is getting all worked up and randy and then getting sick and having to go throw up because you had too much of everything." And coming from Rodney, it sounded like the voice of wisdom.

"It's happened," Carson said calmly, still eating.

"Mmm. I've never had that problem., "John admitted.

"Right, well. Some people have it happen. Not that I know anyone that it's happened to, but uh, I've heard it rumored." Rodney fiddled with his fork for a moment. "You know."

John chuckled a little, surprised at how rusty it sounded. He couldn't really remember the last time he laughed. "Rumours, right."

"Dirty vicious rumors, definitely," Carson added.

"Horrible, vicious rumors." Rodney laughed a little, and finished another bite of steak. "Mmm, this is nice. I can't remember the last time I did this without it being related to a goodbye, or something."

"See, that was kinda my point." John replied still eating.

"Well, hopefully this is more of a 'hello' than a goodbye," Carson said. "I feel you should know Rodney gets a wee bit possessive."

Possessive, Rodney? He hadn't seemed so possessive of Carson, and if he was, then he wouldn't be open to the idea of a trine. "Hey, what do you mean?"

"I mean, he likes to hold onto people when he gets a grip on them," Carson said. "Literally sometimes."

"I think I remember that from uh, when we were out camping in the tent," John said.

"Oh, just because I happen to appreciate physical intimacy..." Clinging like a limpet, and that was a mental image that made John smirk a little. Yeah, Rodney seemed like he was the type to do that after sex, if he stuck around, and Carson seemed like the sticking around type.

"He does, he really does," Carson said in between mouthfuls.

"I've got no problem with that. Unless I have cracked ribs or something," John said

“Which you didn't, right? He doesn't have cracked ribs, does he Carson? Because if he does, I think it might dent our plans...."

"Plans? You have actual plans?" John asked. "As opposed to general interest?" 

"Rodney always has a plan," Carson assured him.

"Not just a plan. Lazier people would call it a fantasy, but it only stays that way if you don't seize the moment." And Rodney seemed like he wanted to seize the moment, and maybe more. He stabbed one last french-fry with a fork, and sat back. 

Now that sounded interesting and John found himself mulling it over as he finished up his plate and took a drink of beer. "Do I get to know any details, or do I just improvise?"

"Just having you there is going to be wonderful John," Carson said who seemed to eat slower than the pair of them.

Rodney seemed used to that, because Rodney seemed to shovel food away at a pace that would give normal people indigestion. The only reason he hadn't finished way before John was probably because he'd been talking.

"Really," Rodney agreed. "I just want do the getting naked thing. Top priority."

"Kinda thought we'd already done that. Or pretty close," John answered setting back feeling full, and comfortable with it. He usually did enough training to burn off anything like that but right now he needed the calories. 

"But not in a recreational fashion," Carson said gesturing at him with his fork. "We can just see what happens."

That was unsettling in a different way. "I'm a bit used to people telling me what they want." He shrugged a little. "Challenges, that sort of thing." And the truth was he was a pretty easy going guy when it came to sex. The fact sex was taking place was usually enough to make it good. Except with the weird ones.

There were always the weird ones to be leery of somewhere along the line. "Right. This... isn't you paying off a challenge debt." Rodney took another sip of his soda, and his mouth was pulled down a little. "This is just the three of us, seeing where things go."

"Still, I wouldn't mind knowing if you've got any... things," John asked having more beer.

"I should hope we've got at least two between us," Carson said smirking at Rodney.

"No, I mean, hang ups. Triggers. Or stuff that's a sure fire winner," John asked.

"Oh, uh..." Rodney's mouth tipped again, up that time, and then he loosely shrugged one shoulder. "Not, I mean, I'm pretty game."

"It's true he is," Carson replied. "But I don't think he's going to want to be on the receiving end of anything uh, restrictive."

John nodded. He could understand that but he was amused by the way Carson could blithely talk about such things openly .

"...and to be honest, both of us are probably a wee bit sheltered. Certainly compared to you John."

"That's not a bad thing Carson," he said automatically.

"I don't think it is." Rodney leaned forwards a little. "But it's, it's a different point of reference. Freemen with a concentration in the sciences don't get laid often, let alone up to half of what you've gotten into."

John shrugged. "Most of the Imperials don't get it in such detail, only those who have the psychological profile -- which apparently I have - and the skills that put them at high risk of being captured. And you learn stuff whether you really like it or not. Don't get me wrong, some of it I really like, but there's plenty of things I can live without ever having to go through again."

"Well, we'll probably be interested in your experience John," Carson said even as plates were taken away from the table. They didn't linger in this place.

"Are any of you interested in dessert?" And Rodney leaned forwards a little, glancing at John and Carson.

"Uh, maybe we could get two and spilt them?" Or they could shoot for three and Rodney probably *would* make himself sick. At least Rodney knew his limits in something.

"Aye, share them," Carson said. "Rodney, you choose. I pretty much like anything."

"I'll be sure to steer clear of anything citrus," John added. "Considering." It surprised him how eager he was to get out of there, to get to this hotel room and just see what it felt like to try this with people interested in him rather than his body.

And they were interested in him, definitely. John had had one guy, back before Afghanistan. Josh, Josh and John couldn't even remember his last name. At a restaurant like that, he would have quietly tsked at everything John touched, because Josh was an Imperial trainer and completely body obsessed. He wouldn't have been scraping a fork through some chocolate raspberry stuff and then shoving it at John with an insistence that he *taste* it, the way Rodney was.

There was something easy, almost sensual about sharing desserts. All three of them huddled around the two plates, sharing forks, swapping tastes, until there wasn't much left, and Carson's side was brushing against John's. Rodney paid the bill, and stuck a gratuity under his empty soda glass for their no doubt beleaguered waitress. 

It felt to John like, as the meal had progressed, the nervousness had amped itself back down, and Rodney seemed comfortable with what they were doing again. He and Carson were still almost visibly keyed up, but it felt different, like they'd realised that it could actually work, or maybe just John had realised it. The ride to the hotel was comfortable, even if he didn't have a change of clothes or toiletries with him.

It wasn't what he'd thought he'd be spending the evening doing, but then again things did sometimes work out better than he thought. And when Rodney booked a hotel room, he booked a hell of a room. It probably came with a change of clothes and toiletries. It certainly seemed to have everything else.

It had him staring the moment he got inside. "You could park a jet in this place Rodney," he said looking around.

"Well, you know what they say about men with big hotel rooms," Carson said as he closed the door behind them.

"Hopefully that they don't park jets in the bedroom, because I'm pretty sure it'd be a distraction." Rodney slipped his door key onto the table, and he was openly grinning by that time. "Plus, we'd have to pay damages."

"You know there was this one time with my wingman..." John drawled as he wandered in and looked around. The bed was big enough to fit an orgy into. "So where are the other dozen people that you need to fill up this bed huh?"

"I told them to wait until we sent them an IDC," Carson said following on. "Bloody hell Rodney, it’s the size of a tennis court!"

"I figured that between sleeping on the ground and those half-twin things that they call beds back at the base, we could use a little change." Rodney started to unbutton his shirt collar, and then shrugged out of his jacket. "So..."

"So I'm guessing this is the point where you want to get naked?" John asked, smiling a little. He didn't have much in the way of a problem with that. He'd had to give the occasional forfeit in public before and Carson and Rodney had probably seen it all before.

"Pretty much.” Carson was kicking off his shoes, and sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Okay, I can deal with that." He started slowly, casual in his movements.

He had his shirt partially off before Rodney closed the space between them and kissed him. John wasn't sure what he'd expected the kiss to be like -- fast, hard, maybe, or skittish, but no, Rodney seemed very take-charge without making it rough, sliding his tongue against John's lips like he'd done to his fork earlier.

It was kinda nice to just relax and lean into it. He knew he kissed well. He was pretty proud of the fact he could kiss someone well enough that they lost track of details like their name, breathing, that sort of thing. And he'd imagined this about Rodney long enough. Rodney was someone he'd wanted to protect, that he’d wanted to keep safe and he allowed the intensity of feeling to bubble to the surface as he kissed back.

"Oh my God, that is amazingly sexy," Carson commented, sounding like he had been stopped in his tracks by the show.

"Mmm, Jesus, John... " Rodney pulled back a little, breaths huffing against John's lips. "Naked. Naked now. Carson, can you keep him busy while I...?" Something, something that John missed the implication of but Carson seemed to catch.

"Oh I think it will be my pleasure," Carson said and moved in closer.

"How exactly is he going to be keeping me busy?" John murmured.

"Oh, I thought I'd do something like this..."

Hands on his shoulders, turning him around before Carson kissed him. This time there was the sensation of lip on lip and the feeling of Rodney's hands sliding around John, unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it off of him, unbuckling his belt.

Carson was more solid somehow than Rodney, or perhaps less inclined to motion and movement so he seemed that way. John kissed him as well, registering the differences in their tastes and finding he was liking this double teaming. Fuck, yeah...hands everywhere at once and not grabbing or pulling or vicious. 

Carson broke for air with a stunned expression on his face. "That was incredible. Rodney, was yours like that?"

"Yeah. You're an amazing kisser, John. Which I'm sure everyone tells you, but." But, but Rodney was pressing against John's back, arms wrapped around John from behind, sliding one hand very slowly into John's pants. He could feel easy kisses being pressed against his shoulder. Okay, that was something a little like some of the things the Chair had shown him when his mind had been drifting. The touch of someone wanting him, front and back and as he'd been thinking about it since Rodney had brought it up, he was already hard as Rodney's fingers touched him.

Carson was kissing at his neck, occasionally reaching over to kiss Rodney over his shoulder. 

"That’s good," he murmured and he heard his breath catch in response to touch.

"I,*we* want you. Like this, as a person, hopefully not getting shot at by aliens but that goes with the territory, so..." Carson quieted Rodney with another kiss, and then Rodney kissed the back of John's neck, wrapping his fingers around John's cock, giving a slow stroke over its length.

It made him push at Carson in front of him and feeling him there in front. "Jesus. I really hope you guys are going to fulfil on all this." 

"If that's what you want John..."

"How do you define 'fulfil'?" Rodney slid his thumb over the head of John's cock, pressing just hard enough to make John ache. "I know my hands are pretty full."

"I'm thinking about you both, I want you both," John closed his eyes and arched a little even as he felt the shirt pulled away completely. "Anything. "

"See, now I would've picked him for a top," Carson murmured. "If he got the chance to choose."

"Do you have preferences?" Rodney asked it in a teasing tone of voice, and he slid his other hand down, behind John, or maybe that was Carson's hand that was sliding and cupping one ass-cheek, because Rodney's hand was still wrapped around his dick and another was sliding into his underwear to cup his balls.

"For you to not stop doing that." John managed. Preferences, he wasn't sure. He'd done both and liked it both ways, but he couldn't see himself fucking Rodney. But he could see himself being fucked. He could see Rodney sucking him off and he could see him doing that for both of them. 

He pretty much when with his guideline of when in doubt, take it rather than give it. "Fuck me..." he murmured. "Yeah."

"I think that counts as a preference," Carson said with a hint of humor in his voice.

"That's a preference." Rodney shifted his fingers over John's balls, and sighed against his neck. "I'm going to pull your pants off now. Shoes, too."

"Knock yourself out Rodney," John replied, lost to that feeling of pressure. He made a noise and Carson muffled it with another kiss. 

"We're going to strip you naked John and then have our wicked way with you," Carson said. "I'm sure this taps into the fantasies of every scientist in the SGC. Mmm."

"Too bad for them." Rodney's fingers pulled back, sliding up to the waist of his pants before he started to pull them down, good to his word. John had to agree and somewhere in the next few minutes he ended up naked and horny as hell and pretty much ready to do more than just *stand* there. 

"One naked Imperial," Carson noted trailing fingers over his skin. "You look so much better when you aren't black and blue with bruises."

Marks were still there though, even after his recuperation in the SGC Infirmary, and they were sensitive to exploring fingers. Rodney got John's boots off, and coaxed him to step out of his pants. "Much better." And there was the added plus that Rodney was leaning up against him, one cheek pressed against John's ass.

That was just... hot. Damn hot and he was probably going to come before they got down to anything serious. And then he'd feel them fucking him to another orgasm and that sounded pretty great to him. "Can we get to the bed?" he asked.

"In a moment John, I don't think Rodney's quite done there," Carson murmured.

“You should be damn happy I thought to shave before we left." Not that stubble wasn't a good look on Rodney, but John could guess where it was heading when Rodney pressed a kiss against his ass cheek, and then pulled at John's ass, spreading him open.

While Carson pressed a kiss against his mouth again, then pulled back to finish undressing.

He was kinda sad not to have that support in front of him because when he felt what Rodney was doing it sent him staggering forward, looking for something to grip on to... hard.

He ended up on his knees half bent over the end of the bed making noises he wasn't sure of.

Rodney had his tongue in him, shameless about what he was doing. He'd only stopped when John had stumbled, and he'd been the one to coax John forwards to lean on the bed like that.. And then he went right back to it, hands spreading John open while he ran his tongue against John's asshole, pressing inside and back out again. 

Rodney definitely knew how to top.

That was a relief in a way, that he didn't have to coax him or maybe even be the one taking the lead. Just for a change it was nice to not have responsibility for all that sort of stuff, but just to *feel* what was happening and how incredibly good it felt.

Next thing he knew Carson had clambered on the bed in front of him, a little uncertain of where to fit in, until he gestured for him to sit where he could reach him with his mouth. Yeah...that made him shiver just thinking about it, and Carson didn't say no, though he caught him asking if he was sure even as he got into that position. He answered by lowering his mouth over his cock, matching the pace of what Rodney was doing to him.

It felt good. To just feel, to suck and have that tongue sliding into him, and then Rodney reaching around, wrapping a hand around his dick to stroke him off. Somewhere in there, a finger slid into his ass, just beside the wetness of Rodney's tongue licking at him.

"Oh my god." Carson was the only one without a mouthful and the only one who could make little more than appreciative noises. His appreciative noises pretty much meant, yeah, more now, don't stop with a finger. Two even. Whatever the hell you want to put up there. "Oh my god John. Rodney, just... don't tease him like that forever. I don't think I can stand it."

John felt a murmur against his ass, and then the finger twisted, thrust in deeper, searching for, oh, fuck, fuck, that was it. Rodney's hand around his dick was just the right pace, and the finger was right against his prostate.

He nearly choked, as he inadvertently tried to gulp or gasp around Carson's cock, and he definitely groaned because a miniature fireworks display was exploding behind his eyes as he tried to grip onto something that turned out to be Carson’s legs.

"I think he liked that," Carson said. "You know something, he seems to match your rhythm Rodney. I think, oh, bloody hell, don't stop John!"

He wanted Rodney to do more; he wanted something hard, he wanted him to make him come or stop him, he wasn’t sure which just as long as he did *something*.

Rodney pulled back, breathing hard and pressing a kiss against John's asscheek. "Tongue sore. Hold on, there's lube in my pants..."

He made a noise of protest. Who could wait for lube? Wasn't like there hadn't been occasion’s before when he had...

"John, you are going to wait for lube," Carson said sternly. "That's something you should always make time for."

Damn it. When did Carson get to be a mind reader? Well, he'd just have to teach them about the joys of sex aids of some description. Just to tide him over in these periods where Rodney was off somewhere and he felt like waiting would make him explode. No one was touching him where he needed it - and that was kinda hot as well.

Not getting exactly what he wanted, fast and right away, it was novel. He was used to sex without much foreplay, without much fooling around, and without much *pausing* and stopping. It felt like forever before Rodney knelt behind him again, kissing the small of his back while pressing two fingers, slicked, against his ass. "Sorry, I really think my tongue was going to fall off. Your ass is so hot, though."

He just had to take a break and a breath, resting against Carson's leg a moment. "Rodney, I really need you to just, fuck me right now," he half demanded. "I've had a whole damn dinner of foreplay and right now I'd hump a damn table leg!"

"I'm sure we can't allow that," Carson said with a smile. "We like you like this."

"You're going to have to stand a little more foreplay." Rodney was *smiling*, he was sure of it! And sliding two fingers into his ass at the same time.

It wasn't exactly his fault if he thrust backward hard onto those fingers, or that he decided to try and force Carson's hand by making *him* respond as well. Only his hands were tangling in his hair, holding him tight and he couldn't move then. 

"That's, oh yeah...."

"I wonder if we're breaking any treaty conventions by holding an Imperial at the edge of orgasm," Rodney mused from behind him, twisting those two fingers before he pressed them pointedly against John's prostate again,

"Probably counts as cruel and unusual punishment," Carson agreed. 

And his body betrayed him completely with a flush and shiver even at the teasing suggestion just before he practically yelped and bucked.

"Well, well. You know I think he *likes* that." Carson said sounding smug. "Really likes that idea."

"This is *my* idea of a good cruel and unusual punishment." Rodney chuckled a little, and repeated the gesture just before he went back to stroking John hard, fast. Finally, finally something that felt like more.

He stopped licking at Carson and managed to say, "You keep doing that, this party’s gonna peak pretty early..."

"I thought that was the idea," Carson said.

"Or can't you get it up more than once?" Rodney was teasing, just a little, and he pressed a kiss against John's spine. Lots of kissing, he was getting the feeling that Rodney liked to kiss.

"Hey, I can do that but there's two of you, one of me..." John wasn't sure what he was trying to say. "Oh crap, next time we do this, I'm bringing a cockring to keep up with you two."

He might as well just go with it. All of it.

"We could always tag-team you?" Rodney stroked him harder, inside and outside, and pressed closer against him. "We'll think of something."

"I don't think it's a big problem Rodney," Carson replied looking blissed out himself. "I think he has a thing about that. I'm thinking our Major has a few not so well hidden kinks."

He sounded like that amused him more than anything and he couldn't answer because his world narrowed to the movement of Rodney's fingers, the stroking, the pressing and there, there with another burst of sensation he was hitting orgasm everywhere.

All over the side of the mattress, the sheets, Rodney's fingers, maybe Carson's leg. All four overlapped, and it didn't matter because Rodney kept stroking him even after he'd come, inside and out, until it sent little tense shockwaves of sensation down to his balls, aching. "Wow, I think you're right."

John was just leaning into Carson's thigh, breathing hard. It had been a little while for him at least - but those fingers weren't going to let him collapse and sleep it off. He groaned a little, and absently licked at Carson's cock in front of his face even as he settled there,

The fingers did start to pull out, though, and Rodney pressed another kiss against the small of John's back. "John? What do you want to do?"

"What, what do I want to do?" John asked a little dazed. He thought that'd been decided. "Thought you guys were going to fuck me." 

"Aye well, you might not have the stamina for it, and..." Carson trailed off as he looked at Rodney.

"You did just get out of the hospital. Before dinner. Maybe a slightly less athletic version of that?" Rodney slid his arms around John's waist, and seemed to be thinking about moving them both up onto the bed.

"Aye, I don't think you should strain yourself," Carson replied stroking his hair.

“Look, I'll just lie here, “John said a little desperately. "That's not hard work right?"

"Muscles contract," Rodney half-reminded him. But he finally nudged John up a little. "C'mon, let's get you onto the bed and go from there. You're all dead weight right now and I'm not that strong."

He did find himself slightly achy as he clambered up onto the bed half sprawling over Carson in the process. And that didn't feel weird at all which was great. He felt sort've looser now, but there was still a raw need for something more.

"That's better," Carson said giving him a pillow to lean into. 

"You'll have to get used to the two softy scientists who like for things to be comfortable." Rodney's voice dipped towards teasing again, and he knelt on the mattress for a moment before leaning forwards to slide a hand over John's dick despite that it was soft. It wasn’t like John hadn't seen Rodney naked before -- he had, but not under the best of circumstances. It hadn't been a ogling moment, and now he could really look at Rodney.

He looked... great. Really great. Realer than the sculpted abs and fake tans of some of the Imperials. And his cock was impressive enough to make him anticipate that. "I can live with that. I mean if one of you guys wants me to do anything for you..."

"Oh I think we've been doing okay about this John," Carson murmured.

"Really. But if you fall asleep over there I might get a little irked." Irked. Rodney didn't even seem to *have* that stopping point for his temper, but he seemed content when he leaned up over Carson for a moment to kiss him, before he leaned over to kiss John just the same. "Wow. This is great. Do you think you can get hard again, with a little help?"

"Sure..." John drawled enjoying the touch of hands on him and lazily shifted to display himself wantonly. "Mm. I'm a horny Imperial, thought you knew that."

"We're starting to," Carson replied. "You're enjoying this aren't you?"

"You bet," John replied. "And I'll last longer this time."

Rodney glanced at Carson, and John hoped they *did* have some kind of telepathic thing going on where they both tackled him. If Rodney wanted him hard, maybe. Just maybe he'd end up in the middle of a sandwich between Rodney and Carson. It was enough to at least make his soft dick ache when Rodney pressed his fingers against a nipple. "Good."

"Just as well, because I probably won't," Carson murmured and kissed at that same nipple so he got the rough of Rodney teasing it, and then the hot warm threading in and around his fingers. John wasn’t sure if Carson were trying to suck Rodney's fingers and was just getting him by happy accident, but it made him squirm.

It wasn't anything that John had come across before, and it was stupid simple, sure, but it felt good. Rodney was *watching* him- him and Carson, like it was the hottest thing he'd ever seen- Carson's mouth and John's chest and John's mouth. John wasn't sure he'd ever had someone watch his mouth like that.

Maybe Rodney wanted him to *do* something with his mouth. He smiled a little at him and saw a response. "Rodney, I could, you know. Suck you to get you ready?" he offered, looking up at him.

"Definitely worth it," Carson mumbled as he carried on.

"Huh, I think I’ll take you up on that offer." Rodney shifted, and it seemed like he didn't want to disturb what Carson was doing because he moved to John's other side and sat near his head. Yeah, if that was the plan, he sucked at one of them while the other had their wicked way with him, John could like that.

So what if he were probably as much a slut as a career path pleasure slave. That could be a plus.

And he was tasting Rodney, and closing his eyes to just concentrate on the feel of him in his mouth, the musk of him and the way he thought he could feel his heartbeat with his tongue.

And all the while, Carson was sucking on him and then moving and spreading his legs.

Spreading his legs was a fantastic thing, and maybe they were going to do him that way, one and then the other, which was just as good a thought. He liked to feel a little raw, a little opened up after sex, and sprawled out on the mattress with the pillow to lay on was definitely going to make it easier on him. "Oh, fuck, John..."

He was sort of twisted a little sideways and he was just all kinds of loose limbed and permissive when it came to manhandling. And there was Carson then, even as his mouth was full with Rodney and entertaining him there was a warmth and a slick pressure into him that had him shaking.

"That is... incredible," Carson moaned and he was close to doing that himself. He guessed Carson hadn't had opportunity to top a lot. He really didn't mind. In fact he loved it.

Loved the feeling of having Carson in him while he had Rodney in his mouth. Carson's hands stroked shakily at John's thighs, almost adoringly, giving John plenty of time to adjust to the feeling of fullness. Yeah, it had definitely been too long.

He hooked his leg vaguely over something which might've belonged to anyone. He couldn't help but think of things he wanted to show them. To have them do. Things that might appeal to Rodney, or Carson and certainly to him.

The first movement made him gasp around Rodney, and he rumbled a moan of appreciation even as he continued.

Rodney exhaled in a sound that was suspiciously close to a whine, and John could feel his fingers threading through John's hand, stroking and soothing over his scalp instead of holding him in place.

Carson was a slow and deep mover. God yes. He just pushed in and in and, fuck, slowly rocked back. And then did that again, and he found himself sucking frantically as if that would help speed him up.

Rodney leaned back against the headboard, and he stretched one of his legs out. "Fuck, fuck, John? John, I'm really not going to last if you keep this up, you're, oh, fuck, too good at this..."

That wasn't fair. He wanted... .He wanted Rodney to lose it with him. That was something he found really a bit of a turn on. He pulled a way for a moment. "You want me to go all the way or want to join in with Carson?"

"Sorry to say, there’s no room for two here," Carson replied.

And dammit, John could *make* room. He could take *that*, if they were slow and careful, and they *were*...

Rodney groaned, fingers sliding, stuttering against John's hair. "Oh, god, that's the hottest mental image, and I thought *watching* was hot enough."

"Do it." He encouraged even as Carson shifted slowly in him. "Do it Rodney, please." 

It was a hot image, his cock immediately twitching up at the thought of them both pushing at him.

"I wouldn've thought it was... possible," Carson said again. "Is it?"

"Oh it's possible..." John murmured. He had time to work at it, and he wanted that feeling.

"Technically it's possible. It wouldn't last long, but..." But wow. John *wanted* that, the intense feeling that could be done in a gentler way that would please Carson and Rodney.

"We can work up to it -- besides how long are you guys going to last?" John asked with a slight smile. He reached out for Rodney. "C'mon, you know you want to. Carson wants you to, I *definitely* want you to..."

By the time fingers had curled around Rodney's hip, Rodney was *looking* at him again, and gave a quiet, lost sort of sigh. "If you ever use that tone of voice at work, I'm fucked." He was already shifting, eyeing John like he could understand the mechanics of it. "Okay, I think if I get behind you, and you sit on me, we'll be all right..."

"What about me?" Carson asked. "I'm already uh... involved back here."

The plaintive note in his voice nearly made John chuckle. "Relax Carson. It'll be fine."

"Just, you know, try to stay where you are." Rodney leaned away for a moment, presumably to grab more lube, maybe a condom. John didn't care, he just wanted to be fucked, and the fact that they were going along with it meant they weren't as hopelessly vanilla as he'd guessed they might be.

Perhaps he should've figured them to be the experimenting type, which was good news because he liked to try new things. Or old things with new people he could trust. It felt a lot different doing it with them than anyone else.

So he moved a little, and tried to get where he was needed without dislodging what Carson was doing but the movement was giving him bursts of sensation. Fuck yeah...

It was easy to get lost in the feeling -- Carson's dick inside of him, and Carson pulling him forwards, sliding his arms around John to support him while Rodney moved to sit just behind John, dick pressing up along his asscrack.

He knew he was moaning even as he settled there and being upright mean gravity pushing him down onto Carson and against Rodney and he didn't know whether to lean forward or back.

"Yeah, there... there -- you've got it..." he encouraged even as Carson seemed to be chanting a mantra to stop himself from coming too soon.

"Easy now, easy, easy now.... easy now..."

Rodney scooted forwards, just a little, until John was sure they were a tangle of arms and legs, because one of Rodney's arms slid around his chest from the other side, and his other hand... 

There were fingers pressing against where Carson's cock met his ass, just one and then a second one, and one of them crept in, slick and teasing, just for a moment. Probably shoving more lube in, or trying to drive John crazy.

"Jesus, fuck, Rodney...." He couldn’t help but shift and move in response that set Carson moving again.

"Bloody hellfire,” Carson managed. "I'm sure this must be illegal. Anything that feels like this has to be illegal... oh...."

Rodney hunched forwards a little more, fingers sliding out and away. "Oh, god, that's hot. That's so fucking hot. I've never, *nothing*, not even really good porn is this hot, and your back looks gorgeous right now, John, I can see all the muscles, it's..." The head of Rodney's cock pressed where his fingers had been, against Carson's dick, threatening to stretch John out very soon.

He couldn't help the hiss he made as it pushed in. It burned and strained and that was just right because the size of them both was incredible and he had to move a little to ease them in. Anything they were saying faded out for a moment and he felt perspiration prickle at the effort of holding still even as Carson degenerated to incoherence.

Rodney's lips were moving, and his head was bowed forwards, pressed against John’s shoulder. It felt sensual, arms sliding around him, bare thrusts of hip, jerks of motion that felt amazing. Two cocks inside of him at the same time, two lovers holding onto him like he was the only thing in the world.

They seemed to be working randomly towards some sort of rhythm, coming together as much by necessity as anything else. Neither Rodney or Carson were *small* and thank god they weren't leaning towards huge because he was feeling like he was on the edge of splitting apart. But it made him want more so it was him moving as much as then, driving them past caution with sensation.

Carson thrust at him with more vigor surprising him by sucking hard on his neck in the process. And someone's hands, maybe, no, probably Rodney's, were on his nipples, teasing and clutching at him while he rocked his hips. John could feel Rodney shift his legs a little, trying to get leverage, and he wanted to help, but -- oh, fuck, right there, hard and sharp enough to ache, Rodney found the way he needed to move to thrust along with Carson into John.

There was something about that long ride up to orgasm that suspended the normal laws of nature. Because it could've been hours they spent like that for his mind was telling him. What he knew is that somewhere along the line it went from slow, to faster, harder, to more noise... a lot of which was his own groans and gasps echoing in his ears as he panted and begged for them to slow, or conversely to speed up.

But it became muddled up towards the end, and he had his eyes closed, his neck arched back and when the peak came, it was with a shuddering uncontrollable cry and the sensation of free-fall.

Except when he could focus a little better, he was sore, but he'd been caught. He was still leaning back against Rodney, but he was empty, and Carson was still plastered to his front, just touching him.

"I have the most amazing leg cramp."

That was so, so Rodney, that John just started laughing breathlessly as he half toppled, half crawled sideways a little to take that pressure away.

Carson looked mussed but reached to massage at Rodney's leg automatically. He loved that. John loved the fact that Carson cared like that for that to be his priority after sex that would do a Personal or Pleasure Slaves proud.

Rodney slouched back, mouth curling into a smile. "Yeah, right there, please... God, John. You're amazing. That was...." 

He'd made Rodney speechless. He turned a little, propping himself up languidly, knowing he had to look a sight; mussed hair, marks of their hands all over him and he liked that. Loved it.

"Hey, I managed to make you a loss for words," he drawled.

"Wuff. There aren't sufficient words to *describe* what just happened." Rodney stretched his leg, and pressed his foot against Carson's hip before he leaned forwards to kiss him -- it seemed to be a ploy to pull Carson up to lay with John and him, though, which John was all for. They probably needed a shower, but he was too tired to move yet.

"Aye, I'm with you there.. Mmm..." Carson seemed to enjoy the kiss and automatically moved to tangle them up together in a tired heap.

"Got to admit, that's pretty much a first for me," John murmured. "Going to be feeling that for a while." He smiled. He'd enjoy every reminder in every movement.

"Are you okay?" There was a quiet, curious note in Rodney's voice when he asked that, sliding his arms around both John and Carson lazily. John was still caught up in the middle, and that was a good place to be.

"Am I okay? Are you kidding?" John replied stretching a little. "That was great, seriously great."

"I think he was asking if we hurt you at all.." Carson added. "I'm sorry I should’ve realized that maybe..."

"Carson...Carson, I'm fine. I'm more than fine, I'm great."

"Still, it doesn't hurt to ask. Your pain tolerance is through the roof." Rodney gestured his fingers a little against John's side. "We need to do that again sometime. And other things. A lot of things."

"I was hoping you'd say that," John replied lazily. "I've got a lot of things I think would be pretty cool with people I actually trust."

"Well, we're game for pretty much most things," Carson said. "Rodney has a vivid imagination. And is insatiable. And that pain tolerance of yours, that's trained in isn't it?"

John nodded, not even disturbed by thinking about that. "A little bit of pain is good. I'm not into it in a big way like some of the guys were after the training but I liked some bits."

"Well obviously, otherwise he wouldn't've fit the profile to do the training.

"I'm looking forward to whatever you can think up."

Rodney just hummed a little, and kissed at the edge of John's mouth. "I can think of lots of things. Not just sex, either. This... just this is nice. And if you're not inclined to throwing out my movie collection. That's nice, too."

"And here I was thinking you just wanted me for my body," John murmured kissing him back. He was pretty tired just then and his eyes seemed very narrowed as he tried not to yawn. 

"The body's more of bonus than a reason," Carson admitted. 

"The sex is the bonus bonus." Rodney tilted his head, brushing his lips over John's jaw, stubble and all. "And the body. Your personality, though, that started it all." 

"I have a personality?" John asked. That was a reason he hadn't heard before. 

"Yes, you do." Carson replied. "A personality who did more than a job. Who became friends, who keeps on doing everything even when it shouldn't be possible. Someone who made the effort to not just see us safe but happy. You're funny, you can keep up with Rodney enough so that he is enchanted with you."

"'s true. I am." Rodney's fingers were moving a little, lazily. "I have been by turns fascinated and pissed off with you. Pretty equally."

That was new. "Pissed off?" John asked stretching a little. "I don't like the sound of that."

"It’s not something you should be aiming for," Carson replied. "You need someone to look after you as much as you do to others."

"And you kept... doing it, getting hurt." Ah, so that was the pissed off part. If Rodney wasn't citing times, dates and bad cups of coffee, then it had to be something less tangible. "I'm going to put a serious damper on your running headlong into death tendency."

"Gee Rodney, you know how to spoil my fun," John drawled slightly. "You know, I don't exactly intend to get hurt. I don't go looking for it regardless of what my record says. I just couldn't let that happen to you guys when I could do something to stop it."

"Aye, well we are grateful, but personally, I'm thinking we should work on solutions where no one gets hurt."

He could feel Carson move, but Rodney seemed to have limpeted himself comfortably enough against John that he was finally still. Still and relaxed, and that was a long way from the asshole who'd looked John over and then demanded coffee. Not that Rodney was perfect, no, but getting on his good side was great. "I'll even try to get into less trouble at work."

"You know, I don't think you'll get many challenges," John replied comfortable between the two of them. "And I think I have enough practice to teach those guys a thing or two." 

This was great. This was like having a home, and that was just downright weird to someone who had never had a House or anything aside from the Imperial Army.

"I don't doubt it," Carson murmured as he pushed in tight to his other side and his hand trailed back and forward between his skin and Rodney's.

Rodney gave a quiet humming noise that was either agreement, or part of the starwars theme. There was every chance it was both. "Just, on principle. I'm trying not to."

John relaxed between the both of them and into the unfamiliar feeling that someone or two someone's cared, more than cared, maybe. And he more than cared right back. It was a little strange to him, and he knew there might be problems and he only knew the Imperial way, and they were freemen. But that didn't matter here and now.

"I'm not going to argue with men of principle," he murmured softly in response and then smiled again to himself as he leaned over to kiss first Carson then Rodney and say very softly...

"But I would fight for them."

* * *

As staff meetings went, this particular one was attracting a lot of the upper echelons from scientists, through to Imperial top brass and representatives of the Imperial Court. It was a rare thing to get all of them there. There was Dr Weir who was an Imperial liaison usually but was here because apparently Daniel had decided he needed some assistance with translations of Ancient glyphs.

He remembered Jack O'Neill smirking and saying as she was introduced in an aside, "Yeah, I was pretty amazed too."

He wasn't exactly sure why he was there aside from a possible nod to the fact he had triggered most of this with his random control of that command chair. After he had been debriefed, the hunt for the Earth Outpost had begun. It wasn't easy and there had been negotiation and some pained expressions when they had paid for the contracted services of the Meta Kal-El from House Wayne, who promptly located it and for an extra fee melted and carved an access point.

They taken a trip or two down there, just to see if the Zero Point Module would power it and whether Colonel O’Neill and he could activate it. From the pretty blue lights they'd brought up and the inventory of weapons, he took that as a yes.

Facing off against space aliens was all right as long as they had some amazing weaponry to face off against them *with*. They had some Asgardian technology, but the Asgard...

Rodney was comfortable with them, but Rodney also kept making crop circle jokes to John about them. And they didn't wear *pants*. Naked all the time, funny-headed little greys that bond-slaves called in to radio shows about, describing anal probing in depth. Rodney assured him that the Asgard had no interest, full stop, in human colo-rectal function.

Rodney was currently snarking at Zelenka and Carson was rolling his eyes at them both was other people filed into the room. Technically he was still their Imperial - and Zelenka's. People tended not to call challenge on Rodney that often any more. If they did, it was visitors. 

The one time Rodney had demanded a challenge against one of the Imperials who had lashed out at Carson when under the influence of something with too many feelers and stings to be normal, he and Major Lorne, the imperial's commander had caused a riot when they limbered up dramatically and then fulfilled the Challenge with Rock, Paper, Scissors.

Rodney had denied him sex for a full three nights after that one.

But it had *counted*, it was a real way to decide a challenge, except Rodney had been offended for Carson where even Carson wasn't offended, and eventually, eventually, Rodney had calmed down, and come home with pizza after some kind of wormhole physics bender that he'd shared with Zelenka and life had been normal again. 

As normal as it got for them. Zelenka tended to not come over on pizza nights, claiming that tomatoes made him sick when it was probably just the fact that pizza for Rodney implied makeup sex.

The fact that they had a routine for make-up sex said a lot about them. The fact that he was pretty much unrepentant about encouraging the two of them to try new things, which as Lorne and the new kid Ford pointed out, made him the slut of the relationship. He protested that vigorously on the principle that 9 times out of 10 they ambushed *him*. Which worked, up to the point that Ford pointed out that hadn't he just given the base imperials training courses on avoiding ambush and hey, none of them had managed to get him. 

Carson was the glue between them. He was the one that pointed out to Rodney he was being an idiot, or to John - even if he was obviously wrong in those cases, he said it so hopefully that John found he couldn't say no.

Alone, just the two of them, John could imagine his and Rodney's relationship being a rollercoaster of good nights and bad nights in equal measure until maybe Rodney poisoned him or something. But Carson was the peacemaker, and Carson had his own quirks and things. A relationship with *just* John and Carson would probably have been as doomed to fail as him and Rodney, but the three of them...

The three of them *worked*. Carson was the stabilizer, and Rodney was the sense of, the sense of passion and impulse, and occasionally poor impulse control, which made John the sensible one of the trine archetype, which was *really* scary and made him glad that Carson was in on it.

They were still working through things but they had an actual house and the three of them shared a bed, although occasionally one of them slept in the guest room if they were working late or under sanctions for heinous crimes such as recklessly endangering their own life.

With rock paper scissors.

John crossed his arms over his chest and snorted a little at the thought. Rodney shot him a slight glare for that over the edge of his laptop screen. For all he knew, the scientists were looking at porn over there. But no, they were probably looking at diagrams of the power modulator for the ZPM.

There had been a point a few months back when Carson had made an uncharacteristic outburst after Rodney had promised to be back for dinner four times in a row and had failed to show. He'd had a bit of a showdown about whether Rodney would like him to move out to make room for the new love of his life, the ZPM.

It had at least proven that Carson *did* have a temper, a point where he drew the line, and that was good. Someone needed to draw the line with Rodney, because otherwise he'd move into his office and sleep under his desk and shower in bathroom sinks, and no-one, least of all John, wanted that.

It was good to see Carson match wits with Rodney, even if Rodney regained and maintained his genius reputation with breakthrough after breakthrough.

He picked up a pencil and fiddled with it even as General Hammond came in followed by Daniel with an armful of paperwork. "Glad to see everyone already here," he commented as he came in and sat down. "Dr Jackson felt we needed more visual aids for this briefing."

Jack O'Neill shook his head just a little. "I'm very disappointed in you Daniel. I was hoping for something that put the 'brief' in briefing."

"Ah, well yes but we need to show exactly what has been found," Daniel was saying even as he sat down and General Hammond shook his head.

It was probably going to be a powerpoint show. And if it *was*, he was going to owe Rodney a blowjob under the desk after the meeting, because there was no way that, with all the technology they had, they'd do a powerpoint presentation for something as important as Rodney had hinted it would be. Except, they *kept* doing it for all sorts of things, so...

Rodney leaned back in his chair, nearly beaming.

So. He knew what the deal was - knowing Rodney he had hacked records or something. He gave him a suspicious look even as General Hammond finished doing the introductions.

"We are going to keep this brief. Dr Jackson, they can ask questions afterwards, but I want you to tell everyone what has been discovered in Antarctica."

"Yes, right, so..." *Click*

Oh there they went. One blowjob for Rodney.

"...following the incident on P3X-693Y where Major Sheppard activated the database and defense systems of an ancient command chair, following his debriefing where he indicated that he had awareness that a defense outpost existed somewhere in Antarctica on Earth, we went back with our other Ancient -Gene- holder..."

Jack waved a hand lazily to indicate that was him. "Yes, thank you Jack... who used his genetic predisposition to query the database."

"Not as easy as it looks," Jack said. "Never managed to find the stereo on the damn thing."

Zelenka smothered down a chuckle, and Sam elbowed him. And that probably hurt a little, because she was damn strong for an imperial who moonlighted in science. "Yes. I'm sure you'll find it one day. The Database was queried, and a location was revealed which--"

"Yes, yes, *huge* expense, sheets of ice with mammoths probably still trapped in them, melted away by the mega-Meta or whatever he was -- we were all here for that, sir, can we skip to the exciting part?"

General Hammond looked amused. "Cut to the chase, Dr Jackson, otherwise Dr McKay might explode."

Daniel pushed up his glasses a moment. "Fine. So completely missing out all the very relevant and pertinent information about how we got to the outpost and the project that has been working on it, we discovered that it was colloquially known -- if there is a slang version of Ancient -- as Atlantus. Now of course, that is a name close enough to our own legends of Atlantis to make us pay attention. At first we thought Atlantus was the city, or what inspired the legend, but it turns out now not to have been. With the help of Dr Weir..." And he nodded in her direction, "We have translated the glyphs and believe that they indicate that the City of Atlantis is actually now positioned in another galaxy. In the Pegasus galaxy as it happens. And most recently, we have identified an *8* symbol address that could potentially take us there.... with sufficient power."

"Which the ZPM has," Rodney grinned sharply. 

Sam covered her eyes for a moment. "Except ZPM seems to be their natural powersource for the gates and most of their equipment, which means that whatever sort of contingency we send to Pegasus, *if* it's even still there, would need one."

"So it would be a one way trip," Daniel was saying. "Which, I'm sure you would agree would be worth it for the opportunity to meet living ancients or study their technology.” John frowned a little. Rodney would want to go, he knew that. Carson too, which meant he would as well but it seemed rushed.

"Daniel, you're *not* going to the Pegasus galaxy," Jack said firmly.

"But Jack, think of the contribution to our knowledge. The lost city of Atlantis is a chance in a life time, you can't seriously expect me *not* to go..."

Jack held up a hand. "Daniel? Sit. Stay."

John nearly snorted at that, as did Major Carter. "Actually, the main consideration is the power source. If we can get another, then the project would be viable. At this point in time, we are not in desperate enough straights to be sending people on missions of no return."

"But there *will* be a mission if we can get another power source?" Rodney looked *so* hopeful that he didn't ask it so much as he stated it, shifting his fingers at the edges of his laptop.

General Hammond nodded slowly and John noticed that Dr Weir looked very happy at that prospect and he was willing to bet that she was tapped to head up that mission if it should happen.

"Essentially we need a taskforce, a team that is dedicated to hunting down another ZPM," General Hammond replied. He seemed to be looking direct at John as he spoke and abruptly he found himself straightening up instinctively. "Major, this Atlantis team is going to be your command, yours and Dr Weir's. She will be coordinating where and what you are looking for and you will have the able assistance of Dr McKay and Dr Beckett as your science representatives. We need gene-holders on this team and you and Dr Beckett are still the strongest aside from Colonel O'Neill." 

"Got my own team already," Jack said glancing around at Teal'c who had remained impassively silent through the meeting, to Sam who was smiling, and then to Daniel who was a little disappointed it wasn't going to be them. John had visions of him trying to sneak off to Atlantis in the middle of the night.

"And of *course* you'll need me," Rodney grinned. Because like hell he'd let John and Carson go anywhere and leave him there at the SGC, particularly to another Galaxy. Rodney still seemed to think that the SGC was going to ship him off to some other hellish clime again.

"Of course," John said. A team! He had a team. Maybe he could wrangle some flying in there.

"Not sure why they'll specifically need me," Carson mentioned a little hesitantly. "Not that I'm arguing, but..."

"Dr Beckett, your research into an ATA retrovirus is considered to be a priority. The odds are that where a power source could be found, more information on this is likely to be available." Daniel said. "So, you get to look for that."

"Plus, Carson, the ancients were into Genetic engineering, you're a genetic, scientist. Doctor..." Which was sort of like saying that ancients were into toilet paper, so let's bring some, but Rodney trailed off before he shoved a foot too far into his mouth. 

"Aye, well that makes sense, and so does Rodney and Radek, but I think we will be a tall order for John to protect alone." Carson pointed out and looked over at John apologetically for even doubting him implicitly.

"We'd be sending a contingent of officers from various countries that are involved in the project," Doctor Weir assured. And still talking with the Empire, of course. *Trusted* countries, she meant. Trusted countries and expats.

"I suggested that you might like Major Lorne to help you along," O’Neill said looking smug. "Oh, and that kid... Ford. As you seem to spar together so well."

John nodded, cracking a smile. "Yes sir."

General Hammond cleared his throat. "You will have a clear directive to secure any additional ZPM's that might exist with the eventual intention of making an expedition to Atlantis in the Pegasus Galaxy. Unless the situation is critical, we will not be authorizing a one way trip, is that clear?"

"Crystal," Jack said. "And Daniel, if that happens, then maybe we will take a quick visit huh?"

The archeologist brightened. "Oh yes... yes, of course."

"He's not getting a room," Rodney muttered, sitting back. He flashed John another grin. Yeah, he'd hacked the servers and already knew it was powerpoint.

His own *Team*. That was such a turnaround from what happened, from the knock down the post he'd had since the war.

He had a Team with a capital T, because any group with Rodney in it couldn't be a mere group of people, and Dr Weir seemed nice enough and hadn't had any issues with three of her potential subordinates being in Trine relationships. 

"We will post the details as they come up," General Hammond said. "SG-1 will be making first contacts where possible, but you will be using your activated scanning device to good use."

The general looked over them, and he didn't seem to be taking questions, no, he turned off the powerpoint, and smiled slightly. "Good luck. Sheppard, your team makes its first missions next week. You'll have a full roster and instructions in your mail." 

"Yes sir," he replied inclining his head and then grinned, knowing he was beaming like a maniac. Carson was smiling back at him.

"I'm not calling you sir," he commented. "Freeman here."

"I'll call you sir in bed, if the game is interesting enough." Rodney smirked a little and closed his laptop's lid. John still hadn't seen what he and the other scientists were so pleased over on the screen.

"McKay, too much information," Sam pointed out and John smirked.

"He's joking," John said. "He'd never call anyone sir in bed."

"Gentlemen, I think that is the cue for this being over." General Hammond said. "Dismissed, for God's sake."

Rodney was out of his chair pretty quick, grinning at both him and Carson. The meeting broke up into small groups that mulled their way out the door. "So, John -- I think you lost a bet to me?

"Come on, you so hacked into the server," John said still unable to stop grinning.

"Rodney, have you been luring John into bets for sexual favors *again*?" Carson asked in a long suffering tone of voice.

"It's terrible, and I always seem to lose. I can't think why," John said trying for tragic and missing by a mile.

"I was thinking maybe we could change the terms of it a little." It made John cross his arms over his chest, made him stare at Rodney for a moment. "No, I meant Carson instead of me. Unless it's a hardship..."

"Come on, you know I'd do the both of you if you wanted," John replied pausing a moment. "Why the switch?"

"Not that I'm not grateful, but I'm curious too," Carson asked. "And so, by the looks of it is everyone else."

"Talking loud enough that everyone can hear," Radek said unashamedly eavesdropping.

Rodney put a hand over his eyes for a moment, head dropped forwards while he groaned. "Okay, okay, my office, both of you."

"I'm not calling you sir either," Carson said even as he moved along, and John strolled behind him smiling.

"Have set up webcam in your office!" Zelenka called out from behind them. 

"You know, when we took him to Vegas, we created a monster," Carson said.

"I heard that!"

"Yes, I'm sure you did, since you probably have us bugged!" Rodney twisted a little to shout that back at him. Then he took a hopping half step to catch back up with John and Carson as they paced down the bland hallway. "We didn't create a monster, we created an uncloseted pervert. Huge difference."

"It was probably the good example we gave him," John said noticing they were picking up speed on their way to the office.

"And he deserves it. Although I hear that there are few females on the base who haven't had the Czech experience," Carson said.

Rodney's face screwed up a little, and he shook his head with a negative hand gesture. "Not a thought I ever needed, wanted or, or... Woman, okay, but Radek?"

"I thought you went in for the wild hair look," John said innocently and caught the appreciative snorting noise from Carson.

"Aye, he has said that."

"Yours! Yours when it's been my hands or Carson's hands in it. *That* is the wild hair look I like best." Rodney smacked his door open with one hand, and paced in ahead of Carson and John. Half the time they probably looked like that -- Rodney rushing ahead. Well, when they started to go offworld, that was going to have to stop.

He was willing to let Rodney have his way in a lot of things, but not when it came to possibly putting him at risk, or Carson or anyone else. Like it or not, he had lived and breathed all of that all his life and some of it had settled into the bone.

"I'm sure he's disappointed," John replied. "So, what's this about? Or should we just skip to the celebratory champagne and sex?"

"It's not really about anything, though I'm all for the celebrating when we get off shift. I just watched you talk and thought it might be nice to see you... you sucking Carson off instead of me. Just a whim." Rodney waved one hand a little. The thing was, half of Rodney's whims were *real* whims, and half of them had some deeper meaning, and John couldn't quite tell what was what just then.

He wasn't *good* at seeing that. He could look at a military situation and read it, he could look at sex and read it but people reading was something that he pretty much flailed at randomly. Sometimes he hit it off and other times it was a disaster. Carson despaired of them both sometimes.

"A whim, hmm?" Carson was looking at Rodney. "Rodney are you sure there isn't something you want to tell us?"

His cheeks were starting to flare red, and it crept over the bridge of his nose. "What? No, no, it was just something that struck me, look, never mind, there's no need to make a huge deal of it..."

John shrugged. "At least tell me you put the jammer on," he said dropping to his knees in front of Carson.

Rodney wanted a show, he'd do it right here and call his bluff.

"Yeah. In case Radek really does call our collective bluff and try something some time." And maybe that was really what Rodney had wanted, to watch.

"John you can't seriously be, oh bloody hell," Carson looked at him as he looked up him deliberately employing the expression and head tilt that Rodney declared should be banned as an unnatural form of persuasion.

"A bet's a bet, Carson." He smirked a little, conscious of Rodney watching him. So it would be quick, fun and a little risky here and they do something with a bit more substance later, but for now he was willing just to accept Rodney wanted a new way to get off, rather than over analyze things.

He smoothed his hands up his legs, making it obvious what he was intending.

And he could *hear* Rodney behind him, but his focus was on Carson, on Carson expression and the way his mouth opened, lips parted in half-shock that really, John was going to do it. With Rodney watching, which wasn't new, but the location was new.

He was pretty confident that no one going to come their way or cause a fuss. He'd come across SG1 in a few cases of near death sex on a few rescue missions and hadn't said a word. Compared to them, their Trine relationship was practically normal.

But never boring.

His fingers found their way where they were most needed with the sureness of long practice. Both his lovers had their individual quirks that they were still unraveling. Carson could be made to come just by serious attention to his nipples; Rodney seemed to need some sort of touch or contact to get him off, which made for some fun experimenting. He of course was pretty much as much into sex as a career pleasure slave, or a Personal. He had no shame and it showed. Carson liked to be handled a little before he got to the sucking so he was happy to do that.

"John, no, wait, we're in an office... oh *god*..."

"My office." Rodney's voice sounded a little unsteady, a little breathy. "Remember that no-one particularly comes here for social calls, Carson."

"Aside from us," John murmured, gently feeling him up through his pants. "And, hey, we're already here."

"I know, but..."

But it was making him hard in record time.

Carson's cock hard was a comfortable weight in John's hand, against his lips and tongue. He was what one of John's buddies in training had called a 'grower', and the growth made for fantastic sex. Just a little noisy.

Rodney's fingers slid over John's hair. Good, at least Rodney wasn't going to be completely passive.

There was a reason his hair had that constantly ruffled look and a lot of it was to do with Rodney and Carson's tendency to hold onto it, stroke through it, play with it and absently muss it. He had to be careful at meetings not to sit too close because he was sure that if it went on long enough, Rodney would end up petting his hair while presenting his findings on the fluctuation of space-time in wormhole dynamic physics.

He nuzzled in through cloth initially, listening to Carson groan and try to talk sense into all of them including himself.

"You can't do this at work, I'm, no, John... bloody hell, you...." He was hard now, and wired with the spice of possible discovery and interruption.

"You want it," Rodney intoned softly. There was a quiet noise, a noise that made John glance up along Carson's body for a moment, to see Rodney kissing him.

That was always nice to watch and he lost track a moment before he unzipped Carson's pants and then got his cock out. Yeah, this wouldn't be a long blow job. He was already hard enough before he even did anything else. He teased him a little with licks before mimicking Rodney's kiss but with his full erection.

They worked well together, him and Rodney against Carson. Sometimes it just flowed like that, and the way Rodney was leaning into Carson, there probably hadn’t been anything more to it. Rodney just sometimes got twisted up about being a 'pervert'.

Which was crazy considering that he hadn't even introduced them to a fraction of what they had covered in that infamous training. Although what they had done had been fun. Rodney was a little wary of some of the bondage stuff, but seemed to get into it when it was clear it wasn't him who would be out of control. Still issue's there, not unsurprisingly. Carson was game to try most things, though he disapproved of anything that might end up with actual damage.

Right now though, he'd do anything from the way he was moaning and kissing Rodney hungrily. "Rodney, Rodney, oh, yeah, like that..."

John could hear Rodney chuckle, could feel the lazy curve of his fingers behind John's ear before sliding through his hair again and kissing Carson harder. It was a beautiful sight to watch, the two of them like that, when John snuck peaks from looking at Carson's hair.

He guessed it wasn't what people expected from an Imperial, but he had been brought up on the old traditions of and Imperial as protectors and servants of the public. It was easy to do this for him. To suck him into gasping moans muffled against Rodney's mouth, to feel hands in his hair and Rodney leaning in over him, like Rodney wanted to be there in Carson's place. 

Maybe afterwards. 

"Fuck, this is the hottest thing I think I've ever seen. How close are you, Carson?"

"Way, way too close," Carson gasped out. "I don't think I can last, oh, bloody hellfire John, how on god's green earth do you know how to do that?"

That particular move had been courtesy of a Personal in Vegas and he resisted the urge to smirk as all the muscles in Carson's leg twitched.

Tongue right against Carson’s cockhead, trapping it against the roof of his mouth when he gave a sucking motion, milking at him while he fondled fingers over Carson's balls. "Skill," Rodney assured him.

He was always on the lookout for little tips of the trade. With sex so easy to buy, it made sex that came free and by choice something special and wonderful. At least to him it did as he coaxed a very ready Carson towards climax. The man was well on his way and needed little in the way of nudging.

"Oh, oh, fuck... oh..."

John could feel his muscles tighten, could feel his balls drawing up before it hit, a wash of salty-slick taste in his mouth that he swallowed while Rodney conscientiously kept Carson up and standing.

"Yeah, yeah, god, that was as good as I imagined."

"It was mindblowing," Carson said, sounding shaky. "Are you alright John?"

"Just peachy," he said, sitting back just a little and deliberately licked his lips. "Well that was fun."

Rodney was *looking* at him, the look that made John's skin tingle a little. One day, he'd work out what Rodney was thinking when that kind of intensity settled over him. "C'mon. Stand up for a kiss or I'm getting down there with you."

The thought was appealing, but he did get up. "Hey, I'm here. Not going anywhere," he murmured leaning in for a kiss, knowing Rodney would be tasting Carson on his lips.

It was a hard kiss, teeth clicking for a moment before Rodney gentled back and kissed only as hard as he usually did, hot friction that reminded John that Rodney had forgotten to shave that morning. By five, the stubble would be running wild. "Good."

"And I'm telling you, I'm going to want some attention by the time we get home," he said and god, he loved being able to say home and mean it.

"Oh, you'll definitely deserve that much," Carson said with a nod.

"A lot of attention. I'll mark "John Night' on the calendar in the kitchen." Rodney sighed against his mouth. He had one arm looped behind John's back, and the other behind Carson's, and maybe that was what it was all about. Them.

Them, and how their new assignment let there be them together.

When it came down to it, it wasn't the fact he was the new golden boy because of his gene, or that the Imperials looked at him with barely disguised awe because of his hundredstar, or that he'd just been given his new team...

It was the fact he'd come in a little over a year ago as broken as a man could be and still be breathing and been given more than just a chance at redeeming himself. Sure, it hadn’t been easy, but he was pretty sure that the easy way most people went for ended up being the worst option. If he had to go through what happened in Russia a hundred times over to be with Carson and Rodney and the way it work, he'd do it in a heartbeat. As the saying went, splinters and stones might break his bones, but with the three of them together, nothing could ever really hurt him.

Not now, not ever again.

* * *


End file.
